A Yankee and her Redneck
by sherlockian2205
Summary: Glenn and T-dog find a girl in the woods one day and it turns out that she has a connection with certain members of the group. Daryl/OC story. Rated M for language and smut!
1. Reunion

Glenn and T-dog were making their way through the thick underbrush of the forest with their bats dragging by their sides. The day was one of the hottest that the camp by the quarry had experienced yet, and somehow the two men found themselves trekking through the forest in search of stray walkers. Glenn removed his baseball cap before fanning himself with it exaggeratedly.

"Man, how the hell did we get stuck with this job while the rest of the group gets to play in the water," whined Glenn. He squeezed the excess sweat out of his hat with a grimace before placing it back on his head. T-dog fake gagged before chuckling at the younger man's action.

"Come one, " he replied, "You know how Shane is, he's always gotta be on top of everything, and to be fair it was our turn to do patrol. It's just shitty luck that we got to do it on the hottest day of the FUCKING YEAR!"

T-dog ended his sentence by yelling and Glenn hurriedly tried to shush him as he failed to cover his own giggles at T-dog's behavior.

"Shhh," chuckled Glenn, "You're gunna draw every damn thing in the forest to us."

T-dog waved a sweaty hand to gesture to their surroundings.

"Look around us. It's so damn hot that everything in this fucking forest is chilling by the water. There ain't no walkers within ten miles of us. No one can hear us!"

Suddenly both of the men felt something cool, hard, and metallic press into the smalls of each of their backs. They both stiffened as they recognized the barrel of a gun and a husky and unmistakably feminine voice spoke.

"Walkers might not have heard you but I certainly fucking did. Now why don't you boys turn around nice and slow for me."

T-dog and Glenn stared at each other out of the corners of their eyes before shuffling around slowly to face the voice that had spoken. Both of their jaws dropped a little as they took in the sight of the woman standing before them. She was attractive by anyone's standards. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was tall, probably around 5' 8", with a slim, tight body and legs that seemed to last for miles. Her skin was evenly bronzed and her caramel colored hair fell in disheveled waves down her back. She had a light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks and her eyes were a clear, light green. She held a sawed-off shotgun in each of her hands that were currently pointed at each of their stomachs and there was a large hunting knife strapped to her thigh. Her feet were adorned with heavy duty hiking boots that came to her calves. She wore a pair of cutoff jean shorts that looked nearly destroyed and a button up plaid shirt with no sleeves that was large enough to swallow her thin frame in its folds. Her plump, pink lips were pursed as she took in their appearances and then parted to speak once more.

"Start talking," she ordered.

Both Glenn and T-dog stumbled over their words and stuttered in an attempt to answer her coherently. The nameless girl huffed and cut-off their pathetic ramblings with a wave of her guns.

"Either of you bit?"

"NO!" shouted both of the men while vehemently shaking their heads at the same time. The girl visibly relaxed at this and lowered her two guns. The men let out the breaths they hadn't known they were holding.

"Sorry about that," apologized the girl as she slid the guns into a holster on her back, "You can never be too careful these days right?"

She offered them a sheepish smile.

"No problem, " said Glenn as he also lowered his weapon and motioned for T-dog to do the same, "I assume you haven't been bit as well," she nodded her head in affirmation, "Well, ok then great. I'm Glenn and this here is T-dog. What's your name?"

"I'm Lyla," she said as she held our her hand to shake both of theirs, "You're the first people I've seen in about three months. I've been camping out in trees and scavenging whatever food I could find."

T-dog's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"You've been alone for three months?! Damn girl how'd you survive so long on your own? No offense or anything, but you don't really seem like the outdoorsy type."

Lyla chuckled as she wiped a hand across her sweaty brow.

"None taken, I know I don't look like much. My boyfriend was a big hunter and was always dragging my ass out to go camping with him. After being with him for nearly six years you could say I picked up a thing or two. Hell I'd probably be dead right now if it weren't for him."

Glenn glanced at her warily.

"You say he was? I'm sorry to ask but does that mean that he's dead?"

His voice was low and kind. Lyla smiled sweetly at the guy's gentleness before grief overcame her features.

"I'm not sure, that's what I'm doing out here, I've been searching for him all this time. I got, um, held up at work I guess you could say when everything went down and by the time I got to our house him and his brother had cleared out. I'm not sure what happened or why they left but it anyone could survive this thing it was those two."

She had a steely look in her eye by the end of her speech, as if she was refusing to believe that her boyfriend and his brother had been lost to the walkers like so many others. T-dog grasped her shoulder gently.

"I'm sure you'll find them. That man is damn lucky to have a woman like you searching for him, and I don't see you stopping until you do."

Lyla smiled gratefully at the large man to thank him for his confidence. Her stomach then growled loudly and she grinned embarrassingly at the two guys before muttering an apology with a laugh.

Glenn met T-dog's gaze and they both silently agreed on an action.

"Hey, why don't you come to our camp with us? We have a ton of people there and it's about as safe you can get in times like these. We even have some food we could share with you."

Lyla seemed to mull over the idea in her head while biting her bottom lip.

"I don't know Glenn, that's really nice of you to offer but I don't want to waste your supplies and I really need to keep looking for my boyfriend."

"Come on!" Glenn said enthusiastically, "We aren't overflowing with food but we have enough to spare. And we could ask around camp to see if anyone knows anything that could help you with your search."

Both he and T-dog were looking at her with wide grins. She laughed at their enthusiasm and held up her hands.

"All right! I'll come, but if anyone has a problem with me being there I'll split right away. I don't want to cause any conflict within your group."

The guys cheered and the trio started to make their way back to the quarry.

* * *

Lyla was counting herself very lucky that all the people in the camp were so inviting. After Glenn and T-dog had made the introductions she found herself sitting on a log by the fire pit being handed bottled water and a power bar by a woman named Carol who had a very kind face. She thanked her and observed the rest of the group as she began to sip her water. The women had all been extremely nice, especially Carol and a thin brunette named Lori who both fussed over her the moment after she entered the camp. Their kids Carl and Sophia were adorable too. Shane the big cop intimidated her a little at first, but he seemed like a decent guy under all the muscle. The others were all friendly as well with the exception of Carol's husband. Something about him didn't sit right with her and she made a mental note to be careful around him.

As Lyla ate her bar and watched the interactions of the group around the campsite, she was filled with longing. She missed Daryl so much that it was physically painful. They hadn't spent more than a few days apart since she was 22, and she felt like she was slowly suffocating after being apart for more than three months. She didn't even know for sure if he was alive or what had happened to him. She would give anything to have him hold her tight in those cut arms of his and bury his face in her neck. She toyed with the bottom of his shirt that she was wearing with a sad smile on her face. She started when a loud shout and cackle came from somewhere close behind her.

"Lyla Kaiser! I don' fuckin' believe it! Git yer fuckin' fine nazi mick ass over here right now!"

Her eyes widened dramatically. She knew that raspy, harsh voice and laugher anywhere. She stood and spun on the spot to be met with the best sight she'd seen since this whole zombie clusterfuck had started. She never thought she'd be so happy to see Merle Dixon again, but as she looked at the grizzled redneck with his hands on his knees as he guffawed loudly, a huge smile broke out over her face and tears began to run down her face. She began to laugh through her tears as she brought her hands to her mouth. Merle straightened up before shooting over to her and lifting her from the waste in a tight bear hug. She squealed happily as the other members of the camp stared at the pair in astonishment. Merle's laughter cut off as he set her down and looked her over with his hands on her shoulders.

"Damn girly, never thought I'd be seein' yer purty mug again. You took good damn care a' yerself woman."

Lyla beamed at the older man before launching herself at him and clinging to his side. Merle laughed and strung one arm over her shoulder and met the looks of the other campers. They all looked as though they had been struck over their heads with a 2x4. No one had ever seen Merle interact with anyone like this, and they had never seen someone willing to latch on to him like that.

Glenn bravely broke the silence.

"Lyla, is-is…Merle is the one you were talking about?! Merle is your boyfriend?" he asked seemingly dumbfounded.

Merle guffawed once again and he felt Lyla snort into his side.

"Ah wish Chinaman," answered Merle, "But nah. She and ma little bro have been attached at the hip fer what? Over five years now? It's downright disgustin', they're like a married couple or somethin'."

The group looked shocked. None of them had known anything about either of the Dixon brother's lives.

Lyla pulled back from Merle suddenly with a very serious look on her face. Her clear green eyes were wet and frantic.

"He's alive isn't he? Merle? Daryl is-"

"Easy now woman," Merle cut her off with a pat to her caramel tresses, "'Course that bastard's alive. Ya think Ah'd ever let anyone touch that boy after everything he's gone through?"

Lyla's eyes filled with tears of relief and she sank slowly to the ground.

"Of course you wouldn't Merle, you never have," she let out with a shaky breath, "I've missed him so much Merle."

To the amazement of the other campers, Merle crouched down and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Boy's been all outta sorts without ya girly," he spoke to her in a low, soothing voice, "He was so used ta livin' with ya that he don' know how to be normal withou' ya."

Lyla let out a shaky laugh as she met his serious gaze.

"He's gunna go crazy when he sees ya."

Lyla smiled. "Where is he?"

"Out huntin'. Should be back any minute."

Merle helped her stand back up and she hugged him once more.

Shane scratched his head uncomfortably.

"Uhh, sorry to interrupt or something, but can someone please fill me in on what's happening?"

Merle sneered at the cop but Lyla smiled at him politely and she brushed off the dirt from the back of her shorts.

"Long story short, I'm dating Daryl and we got separated when the world went to shit."

"Daryl? Daryl Dixon?" asked Shane in disbelief.

Lyla crossed her tanned arms and a cold look came over her face.

"Yes, is there a problem with that?"

Shane raised his hands up in apology.

"No problem, just don't really see how Dixon got a woman like you."

Lyla frowned and narrowed her green eyes at the cop.

"Watch it pig." Merle all but growled. Lyla placed a hand on his arm.

"With all due respect _Officer,"_ she sneered, "you don't know anything about me."

Shane held his hands up in surrender once more and backed away. The rest of the group watched the exchange silently. Andrea looked between Merle and Lyla with her arms crossed. In her mind, anyone who was so comfortable around Merle Dixon had to have something wrong with them.

"Why'd he call you a, what was it, nazi mick?" she questioned. This sent Merle into another bout of raucous laughter as Lyla sighed and put a tan hand to her forehead in exasperation.

"That's his fault," she said while shaking her head. Her golden caramel waves catching the sunlight as they moved, "I'm half German, half Irish, and in no way whatsoever am I any part Nazi."

She tossed a half-assed glare at the laughing man next to her as she said this.

Merle stopped laughing at her glare, which surprised the others immensely. Merle never controlled himself.

"Y'all should hear girly here speak when she's got a bone to pick, scariest sounding language Ah've ever heard. Nearly shit ma pants every time she goes all Nazi on me."

Lyla glared at him again.

"I am not a Nazi Merle."

"Aww hell Ah know woman, Ah'm just bustin' yer balls."

Lyla huffed and Glenn spoke up.

"What does he mean when he says that you "go all Nazi"", he asked in a wary tone as he wrung his hat in his hands.

Lyla smiled at Glenn in a comforting manner, her green eyes were soft.

"I grew up speaking English and German in my house so I speak both fluently. When I get angry the German tends to come out."

"Scary as shit. Ya know yer in trouble when she whips it out," intoned Merle, "And it's fuckin' annoyin' as hell when she and ma little brother talk like that so I don' have a clue what the fuck they're talkin' 'bout."

Lori's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, you mean Daryl can speak German?" she asked in a disbelieving tone, "how the hell did we not know about that?"

"There's lots y'all don' know about me and ma brother olive oil," sneered Merle. Lyla shushed him. She understood it was hard to believe that a rough redneck like Daryl Dixon could speak another language when he seemed to butcher the English one magnificently.

"He's not fluent," she said to Lori as she shifted from one foot to another, "But I've forced him to learn enough that he can understand pretty much everything I say to him and he's able to converse back well enough. It's helpful when you want to have a private moment and you have a nosy house guest."

She threw a smirk over to Merle who returned it in full force before laughing.

"Ya remember when ya were first tryin' to teach him and ya refused to speak English for damn near a month?" he chuckled as he spoke, "Thought the boy was gunna cry or somethin' he was so frustrated."

The group chuckled appreciatively; Daryl Dixon crying was a very strange thought.

"Hey it worked in the end didn't it?" defended Lyla, "He started to understand it well enough by the end."

The corners of her plump lips were pulled up at the corners. It felt so good to argue good-naturedly with Merle for the first time in months. She never thought she'd miss this man as much as she had.

Merle reached out and yanked on a strand of her hair gently.

"Never said it didn't girly. Boy was so damn happy when ya spoke English again that he started goin' down on ya right in the fuckin' kitchen! While I was still in there!"

"Merle!" Lyla hissed as she whacked his arm with enough force to make him stumble a step back, "Not appropriate!"

Lori and Carol had covered their childrens' ears as the rest of the group's reactions ranged from stifling their laughter to looking around uncomfortably. Merle wasn't done though.

"Hell Ah'd be surprised if he doesn't take ya right here when he sees ya."

He roared with laughter at his own comment while Lyla groaned and threw her hands up in the air. The majority of the group was laughing openly at the two now. Lyla flipped off the laughing redneck with both hands.

"I'm going to kill you Merle, and then Daryl will kill you again after he finds out what you've been saying to everyone."

Merle waved a large hand at her in a dismissive manner.

"Nah Ah call bullshit. Ya both would miss ol' Merle too much."

Lyla rolled her eyes but her mouth was pulled up in a grin.

"Oh yes, we would both terribly miss bailing you out every weekend after you knock out three guys at the bar. I swear Merle, you're going to make Daryl go completely grey by the time he's forty. I know your eleven years older but you might as well be a toddler with the way Daryl cleans up your messes."

"Hey what can ah say girly? Ah'm a forty-five year old with the heart of a kid. Y'all know that."

"Believe me I know Merle." Lyla chuckled along with the rest of the group. Their laughter ceased when the sound of rustling bushed reached their ears and they whipped around with their weapons drawn to face the source of the noise. A low, rough voice shouted out.

"Merle! Where the fuck did yer sorry ass go?"

Lyla stiffened with shock at the sound of her redneck's gruff voice. She hadn't heard it for so long and she let it wash over her as she took it in. She stifled a gasp with both of her hands as tears filled her eyes once more. The group exchanged smiles as they waited to see the reunion between their newest member and the hunter. Merle patted Lyla's back roughly before shouting an answer to his brother.

"Over here bro! Wait till ya see what Ah got fer ya. Don' go passin' out on me or nothin' a'ight ya pussy?"

Lyla laughed quietly as tears poured down her face and the bushes parted.

"What the fuck are ya talkin-" Daryl's voice suddenly cut off as he stepped out of the woods and looked up. His eyes connected with hers as he froze and she felt her heart drop into somewhere near her stomach. She took in his appearance. His hair was longer than he normally wore it and much more blond than she had ever seen it due to prolonged exposure to the sun. His skin was deeply tanned and it looked like he hadn't shaved or showered in two weeks. He was thinner than she remembered, as they all were now, but his arms had retained their muscular tone and definition as they flexed in his cutoff plaid shirt. He wore his usual hunting boots and nearly destroyed jeans as he held his trusty Horton with both hands in front of him. He promptly dropped the crossbow and Lyla saw a look of pure shock and confusion come over his beautiful bright blue eyes. His eyebrows drew together as if he was trying to make sense of the situation as he looked between Lyla and Merle as if he was asking his older brother to confirm that the girl was really there.

He took a half step forward then stopped. Confusion still dominated his features and he clearly was still in shock at the appearance of Lyla. The group waited with baited breath for the reaction of the hunter. Merle took matters into his own hands and shoved Lyla towards his brother gently. This seemed to shake Daryl out of his confusion slightly and a look of immense longing came over his face as he reached his arms out to grab Lyla. She launched herself at him with tears pouring down her face, but instead of meeting him in an embrace she surprised everyone by shoving him back with all of her strength. He stumbled back as the members of the group gasped and Lyla began to shout.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU!" she screamed at the confused hunter as tears cascaded from her pale eyes and down her pretty face, "THE HOUSE WAS EMPTY AND YOU WERE GONE! WHY DIDN"T YOU WAIT FOR ME!"

Daryl looked dumbstruck as he tried to reach for her arms. She pushed of his hands and glared at him through her tears. Daryl raised his voice to match her own but his tone lacked any anger or harshness.

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD LYLA!" he shouted at her desperately with wild eyes that were beginning to fill with his own tears, "We went to the hospital, me and Merle Lyla, and-and everyone was dead. The army came in and shot everyone down. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

His hands were pulling at his dirty blond hair and he looked crazed. Lyla looked at him in confusion before looking towards Merle. He saw her gaze and confirmed his brother's word with a stoic nod. She jumped as Daryl's rough, calloused hands came to her shoulders again and this time she didn't push them away.

"I-I thought you were dead," his voice was almost a whisper this time and she could hear the raw emotion in his voice. She looked into his bright blue eyes.

"I got out. I got out before they came in," she whispered back. She let out a loud sob and launched herself into his arms. He lifted her legs as they circled around his waist and her arms squeezed his neck tightly. Her body shook with loud, wet sobs and she felt his own tears dampen her neck from where his face was pressed into her. She heard Merle's laughter in the background but it seemed as though it was from a great distant. She gasped as Daryl's legs shook and he sat down hard on the ground all while still holding her to him. The relief and happiness he felt numbed his body and he suddenly felt incredibly weak. He fell back against the ground with Lyla on top of him as he cried silently into her neck. She was still wailing loudly but he though that he'd never heard anything better in his life.


	2. Campfire Stories

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the walking dead or its characters. I do own Lyla's character!**

**Thank you everyone for your reviews! I didn't expect to get any so quickly. Let me know in your reviews if there's anything specific you want to see in the story, I'm super open to suggestions and I'll see what I can do! Also sorry if my German translations are a little off. I only speak a little so I'm not fluent and I had to use google translate!**

**Chapter 2**

Daryl's tears slowly came to a stop as he held Lyla tightly against him and he became aware of his surroundings once more. Lyla's wracking sobs were started to quiet down as well and he found his hands stroking up and down her back to comfort her. It seemed as though she hadn't lost too much weight since the apocalypse had started and he was glad to see that she appeared healthy. She was dirty, sweaty, and tired looking but he thought that she'd never seemed more beautiful to him. He was still floating in a state of awe and unimaginable joy as he held on to her. He couldn't believe that she was back in his life after months of believing that she had died in that hospital. He almost started crying with joy again but he composed himself and moved to sit up.

Lyla made a soft noise of surprise at the sudden movement but he shushed her quietly and pushed both of them off the ground to stand. He grasped her gently by the shoulders and checked her over for injuries before meeting her eyes. She still had tears cascading down her cheeks, and he was sure that his own eyes were red and watery, but a huge smile lit up her pretty feminine features. He swiftly grabbed her face with both of his hands and kissed her roughly and deeply. He felt her hands come up to grasp his forearms. He broke away from her after a few moments and she let out a watery chuckle before pressing her face into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. He wrapped his own arms around her upper back with his hands tangled in her long hair, and rested his chin on the top of her head. He pressed a hard kiss to the side of her head before looking up and meeting the gazes from the campers.

He would have laughed at the looks of astonishment that dominated their faces if he hadn't been so emotionally worn from his previous display. Lori stepped forward and addressed Daryl in a calm and soothing voice.

"No offense but you two are filthy," she paused and waited for his reaction. When she saw the corners of his mouth twitch she took it as a sign to continue, "Why don't I get you some soap so you two can go wash up in the quarry? I'm sure Amy has some clothes for Lyla to wear while we wash the ones she has on now."

Amy nodded enthusiastically and smiled at the redneck before running off to gather clothing. Daryl stared at Lori who was smiling warmly at him and muttered a quick thank you with a nod. Lori's smile widened.

"It's no problem really."

She left to collect the necessary toiletries from her tent. Daryl looked down at Lyla to see that she was still crying silently into his chest and showing no sign that she had heard any part of that exchange. He lifted her up to his waist once more as Amy and Lori brought back the items they had left to collect. He thanked both of them quietly and then grabbed his bag of stuff from outside of his and Merle's tent. He made his way though the group of campers, holding Lyla to him with one arm and carrying the supplies in his other hand. Merle slapped him on his back as he walked by and gave him a firm nod. Daryl nodded back at his brother and started down the path to the quarry. He was almost out of site of the group when he heard his brother's raspy voice call out.

"Don' be getting' frisky in our drinkin' water boy!"

Merle started cracking up at his own joke and the rest of the group joined him when they saw Daryl flip his brother off, not even bothering to look behind him as he did so.

Daryl reached a large set of rocks beside the quarry and set the bag of supplies down on it before lowering Lyla gently so that she was standing on her own feet. Her tears had finally stopped and she raised a hand to gently stroke his stubbly cheek.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"I love you."

His low, gruff voice sent shivers down her body and she reached up to softly kiss him. His hands found her waist and pulled her flush against his body as he deepened the kiss and moaned into her mouth. Both of them had been without each other for so long that this intimate contact filled their cores with fire. Daryl pulled away first, albeit with much difficulty, and started to unbutton his shirt. He motioned for her to do the same. She nervously glanced in the direction of the camp but he quickly dissipated her worry.

"Don' worry 'bout it. Merle ain't gunna let anyone come down here right now."

"Good to know that Merle is useful for something," she said with a sly grin.

Daryl smirked at her before abandoning his attempt to unbutton his shirt and started to do hers instead.

"The fuckin' apocalypse happened and yer still stealin' my shit and wearin' it," he huffed, about halfway done with the buttons. She grinned broadly.

"Oh come on, you know you love it."

He chuckled in response and pushed the now unbuttoned shirt back from her shoulders. He barely stifled a moan when he saw that she wasn't wearing a bra. His hands ghosted over her taught nipples and her perky breasts before moving down to her sides. She finished unbuttoning his own shirt and copied his motion of pushing it off his broad shoulders. Her fingers lightly traced the scars that adorned his lean chest, spending more time on the largest one that ran from his right shoulder down to his left pectoral. Daryl dropped his head down in shame like he always did when she saw the scars that resulted from years of abuse at the hands of his drunken father. Lyla stepped forward and gently kissed the edge of the gruesome scar before pressing herself to him tightly. His arms came around her and for a few moments they enjoyed the sensation on their topless bodies squeezed together.

After a few moments he pulled away and bent to remove his shoes. She followed his lead and in a minute they were both standing before each other completely naked, looking over each other's bodies appreciatively. Daryl grabbed the soap from his bag before offering his hand to Lyla. She grasped his outstretched limb and allowed him to slowly pull her into the cool, refreshing water. Once the water was level with his chest and her shoulders, Daryl turned and pulled her to him once more. Her hands found their way to his neck and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He pressed his face into her neck and breathed in her scent. As dirty as she was, he could still smell a hint of underlying vanilla; a scent that he so closely associated with her.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled into her neck.

Lyla drew back and placed her hands on either side of his warm neck. Her eyebrows were drawn together in confusion.

"For what?" she asked. Daryl couldn't meet her green eyes as he answered.

"Fer leavin' ya. I shoulda looked fer longer I shoulda-"

"Stop," she cut him off angrily, "Don't you dare blame yourself for that. There is no way you could have known. You would have been killed if you had stayed to search through all the bodies, and I don't know what I would do if that happened."

Daryl looked up and saw that her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Do you hear me?" her hands moved to his muscled shoulders and she squeezed, "You are at fault here so don't be carrying anything guilt around alright?"

Daryl looked so young and scared as he looked at her and it filled Lyla with sadness. She knew what he had been through as a child and how it had stunted his emotional growth in many ways. He made no move to answer so she moved her hand to the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled until their foreheads were touching.

"Alright?" she asked again.

Daryl closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. He nodded once to show her that he understood. Lyla smiled and kissed his nose once before pulling away slightly. Daryl opened his eyes and stared hard at her. She was smiling gently and her pale green eyes were warm. The scattering of freckles across her nose and upper cheeks that he loved so much seemed denser than it had a few months ago. He wanted to count every single one of the new editions. Lyla watched him studying her face closely. Suddenly she saw a mischievous look flash across his bright blue eyes and the second after it appeared she felt his tongue roughly lick her face from the bottom of her jaw to her cheek. She squealed and playfully pulled at his hair to pull him away.

"Ew Daryl seriously?" she said exasperatedly.

He only smirked widely as his fingers drew patterns across her lower back.

"Ah missed ya too."

Lyla giggled and grinned at him playfully.

"Apparently you also missed your last opportunity to get a haircut and a shave. You're looking a little feral there redneck."

Daryl mock glared at her and huffed.

"Not like Ah was tryin' to impress anyone here ya _yankee_," she giggled at the use of his old nickname for her, "'Sides Ah think we've had more pressing issues to deal with recently wouldn't ya?"

She rolled her eyes but giggled all the same.

"Fine, point taken, but you better at least shave tonight. I'll cut your hair some other time. And on that topic look at it!" she grabbed a fistful from the top of his head, "You're practically blonde now! We almost have the same color hair!"

He swatted her hand away good-naturedly.

"I ain't fuckin' blonde." He muttered.

Lyla smirked.

"Whatever you say, but seriously people are going to think we're siblings or something," she laughed at his horrified expression, "I'm serious look at us, we're both tall, tan, and nearly blonde."

Daryl still looked slightly horrified.

"Whatever, Ah've got blue eyes and you've got green. An' you've got lots of freckles. Ah've got one."

Lyla giggled and kissed the aforementioned freckle near the corner of his mouth. Daryl moved his head to capture her lips quickly before pushing her away gently.

"It's getting' dark. Wash yerself up while Ah shave, then we'll head back up fer dinner."

She mock saluted him and began to lather herself with the soap.

About twenty minutes later Daryl and Lyla, both freshly washed and clothed, walked back into camp. Their hands were clasped and both were smiling as they talked quietly to each other. It was a pleasant change for the group to see this softer side of Daryl that Lyla brought out. Merle spotted them first from his place next to the fire and shouted at the couple.

"Hey Bro! Yer woman's been here less than a day and she's already got ya cleanin' yerself up. Man your ass is whipped!"

He bent over and cackled with laughter. Daryl flipped his older brother off as the attention of the campers focused on the hunter. He did look remarkably less scruffy and dirty than he had an hour before. His face was cleanly shaven, save for the goatee, and his skin was a shade or two lighter without the layers of dirt. He had a fresh plaid button down with no sleeves on as well as a cleaner pair of jeans. Lyla was wearing black jean shorts that were very short on her, due to her frame being a few inches taller than Amy's, and a plain white tank top. Despite the heat of the day, the night was chilly and Daryl saw Lyla shiver out of the corner of his eye.

"Fuck off Merle," he grumbled to his still cackling brother.

He dragged Lyla over to his tent, to the amusement of the others, and disappeared inside it for a moment. He reemerged a moment later with a plaid long sleeved shirt in his hands. He took Lyla's hand again and pulled her back over to the fire before putting the shirt on her and pushing her down onto one of the logs. His shirt was comically large on her and it dwarfed her thin body. He smirked at the sight before sitting down next to her. The group had watched the whole exchange with slight smiles on their face. They liked that his girl seemed to soften both of the Dixon brothers' steely demeanors. This was the first time the brothers had sat near the group for dinner as well.

Lyla rolled up the too long sleeves of the shirt and giggled.

"Wow redneck, I feel honored. This has got to be the only shirt you own with sleeves on it."

The group laughed and Daryl threw a quick glare in their direction before ruffling Lyla's still damp waves.

"Shut it ya damn yank."

Lyla giggled and scooted closer to him so that their sides were pressed together. Lori smiled at the two before speaking up.

"Seems like you've got a lot of nicknames Lyla. Why is it yank this time?"

Daryl looked down at the ground, not used to being spoken to by anyone but Merle, and spoke gruffly.

"Cuz she's a fuckin' yankee that's why."

Lyla rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow gently.

"Oh come on Daryl not this again. I lived in New Jersey, it's not even a part of New England really. What next, are you going to go on about the War of Northern Agression?"

Daryl chuckled.

"'S far as Ah'm concerned anyone north of the Mason-Dixon line is a damn yank."

Lyla rolled her eyes again but giggled all the same. Some of the members of the group exchanged mildly surprised looks. It seemed more and more apparent that they had misjudged the surly hunter's intelligence. It hadn't seemed like he would even know what the Mason-Dixon line was, much less that would be able to speak German.

"Where about in New Jersey?"

Lyla looked up. It was the kind, older man that she remembered as Dale who had asked her question. She threw him a quick smile before answering.

"A small town named Mountain Lakes. It's about twenty miles west of the city."

"New York City?"

"Yup."

Some of the group's eyes lit up in awe and it was obvious that none of them had ever been to the city that never sleeps.

"I practically spent every weekend there growing up."

Lori's son Carl looked dumbstruck and he voiced his wonder.

"Wow! What's it like. Are the buildings really really tall?"

"You bet," answered Lyla, smiling at the young boy, "Ask this one about it," she jerked a thumb towards Daryl, "He's been there. I managed to drag him to my parents last year for Christmas and I took him into the city."

Daryl shook his head and his face seems to drain of color as he remembered the experience.

"Too many fuckin' people," he mumbled and the group laughed.

Lyla patted his muscled shoulder comfortingly.

"It was a little too much of a culture shock for you I guess. A redneck doesn't exactly belong in the biggest city in the country. It didn't help that he nearly got run over by at least four different cabs."

Daryl shook his head and then placed it into his hands with his elbows propped up on his knees.

"I thought he was going to have a full on panic attack when I took him on the subway," she continued.

Daryl lifted his head to glare at her as the group broke into loud laughter. She gave him and innocent expression with a shrug.

"So what is it that you did before the dead came back Lyla?" asked Shane once everyone's laughter had quieted down.

"I was a doctor, well not officially, but I was only a year away from completing my residency," she said with a shrug as she fiddled with the bottom of Daryl's too big shirt.

"Really?" said Shane with his eyebrows raised high, "Aren't you a little young?"

Lyla shrugged again.

"I'm twenty six. I was the youngest in my class but not because I was more intelligent or anything, I just made the age cutoff for the year above me."

Daryl threw her a quick, disbelieving glance.

"A course yer fuckin' smart. Ya went to that fancy ass school of yers."

"It's called Dartmouth Daryl, you know that." She said with a light shove.

"You went to Dartmouth, jeez," said Glenn, "How the hell did you wind up in Georgia then?"

"I went to med school in Atlanta and I was shadowing a surgeon in a hospital on the outskirts of the city. That's actually how I met Daryl too."

Merle started cackling at this statement and Daryl turned slightly red. The group looked between the brothers and they could see that there was a funny story to be told.

"Spill it," ordered Andrea with a grin. Daryl stood up and threw his hands in the air before stalking away and mumbling something about "takin' a piss".

Lyla's gaze followed him until he disappeared from sight.

"Charming as usual," she said with a smirk before beginning the story, "So I was twenty-one and fresh out of my little New Hampshire college. It was one the nights that I was shadowing that surgeon I mentioned before. Nothing too exciting was happening so he told me to go help out the nurses in the ER for some experience. It was about nine at night and one of the nurses asked me if I could go take care of a commotion that was happening in the waiting area. I walk out there and see this guy and an older dude damn near wrestling. Of course it was Daryl and Merle," the group chuckled, "Merle was trying to force Daryl into one of the chairs and Daryl wasn't having any of it. He wanted to get the hell out of there. How did you get him there in the first place again Merle?"

"Knocked him out with a jar o' moonshine and drove his sorry ass in his truck," he said with a chuckle as he held his sides, "Woulda worked too but he woke up as Ah was hauling him in ta the building. Idiot had a broken elbow that he ingored for the better part of three weeks."

Amy gaped at him.

"Why wouldn't he take himself to the hospital? That had to have been really painful!" she exclaimed.

Everyone saw a dark look pass over Merle's eyes and the uneasy look he shared with Lyla.

"Don' matter none. Not important ta this story," he waved towards Lyla to continue the story.

Lyla coughed and plastered a smile back on her face, but the others could see that it was a bit forced.

"Right so I watch this struggle between the two idiots before Merle finally shoves Daryl down into a chair and practically sits on his lap to get him to stay there. I go over, get a mouthful of curses from both of them," she shot a glare towards Merle, "so I got one of the staff nurses to go over. She was a smart one. Daryl thought that she was giving him some Advil. Twenty minutes later he's barely responsive and pumped full of morphine."

"Most gone Ah've ever seen that kid until Ah slipped some magic mushrooms into his cereal two years ago," quipped Merle, clearly enjoying making fun of his younger brother, "Funniest damn thing Ah've ever seen."

Lyla glared at him.

"Yeah well you're not the one who had to babysit his tripping ass all day. I could barely keep him from stripping and running around in the woods," some of the group had tears streaming down their faces from laughter, "And that was after he ripped half the cabinets off the wall and punched a hole through the table. I'm still half convinced you gave him PCP not mushrooms, I swear he had hulk strength for the better part of four hours."

Glenn shuddered.

"Daryl with hulk strength. That's a scary thought."

The others nodded in agreement.

"He's already got huge arms."

Lyla raised her eyebrows at him and grinned slyly.

"Have you been checking out my man Glenn?" everyone laughed as Glenn's face turned bright red and he began to stutter, "Are we going to have to fight over him?"

Glenn groaned and put his still red face into his hands.

"I should have left you in the woods."

T-dog clapped him on the back.

"No way man. Lyla's a riot. I don't think I've laughed this hard since before there were zombies. Go ahead girl, finish your story!"

Lyla nodded at him in thanks.

"So after Daryl was doped up without his knowing, I had the pleasure of dragging him to get x-rays then to the OR to have pins placed in his arm. He wasn't too happy with Merle or I when he woke up that's for sure. Cursed us both out pretty good. I even had to put the damn cast on his arm. He sulked the whole time like a 29-year-old toddler, complaining that it was going to affect his hunting and whatnot."

"How the hell did you start dating after that?" asked Andrea, "Doesn't seem like your first encounter was too friendly."

Lyla smiled conspiratorially at the woman.

"Oh he warmed up pretty quick after that."

"Oh Ah'll say!" exclaimed Merle, "I walk inta ma brother's house a month later and see the two goin' at it like jack rabbits on the couch."

"MERLE!" shouted Lyla with her eyes wide and her hands in the air. The others were either laughing at her distress or attempting to cover their children's ears. Lyla wasn't done shouting at the man who was basically her brother-in-law.

"Ich schwöre, ich werde dich töten! Warum willst du das Bedürfnis verspüren, alle über mein Sexleben erzählen!" (_I swear I am going to kill you! Why do you feel the need to tell everyone about my sex life!)_

She didn't even realize the strange looks she got from the others or the fact that she had started shouting in German instead until she felt a rough, warm hand on her shoulder and Daryl's low voice.

"Was hat er jetzt tun?" (_What did he do now?_)

Lyla clapped her hands over her mouth as she whipped around and met his concerned yet amused eyes. She looked back at the group.

"Sorry, I didn't realize I changed languages," she said sheepishly and then she shot a glare at Merle who was all but rolling around in the dirt cackling with laughter. She turned to address Daryl more quietly as he moved to sit beside her, "Machen Sie sich deswegen keine Sorgen. Er war einfach nur ein Idiot." (_don't worry about it. He was just being an idiot_)

The corners of Daryl's mouth pulled up and he straddled the log she was sitting on so he was facing her fully. He grasped her thin waist with both of his hands and pulled her closer to him.

"Wann ist er nicht?" (_When isn't he?_)

The others, save Merle who was still cackling to himself, watched their exchange with fascination.

"That's so fucking cool!" spouted Amy, gesturing wildly between Daryl and Lyla with her hands. Both of them looked up with surprised looks on their faces, apparently momentarily forgetting that they were in a group of people. Lyla looked mildly abashed and Daryl was blushing lightly and muttering to himself as he swung his leg over the log to sit forwards. Lyla knew he didn't like attention or public displays of emotion. Normally she respected this but after being separated from Daryl for so long she couldn't find it in herself at the moment to care. She ignored his grumbling and grabbed his muscled arm, draping it over her shoulder, before snuggling into his side. Daryl huffed but didn't move his arm. The physical contact comforted him just as much as it did for her.

"Someone's getting' laid tonight!"

Daryl chucked an empty beer bottle towards his brother as Lyla started shouting at him in German again. The others were torn between laughing and groaning.


	3. Bar Fights and Lyla's First Night

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the walking dead.**

**Hi everyone! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! I wasn't sure if I was going to continue with this story but your reviews made me want to. **

**Chapter 3**

Lyla was still pressed tightly into Daryl's side as the group talked quietly about the supply run into Atlanta that was to occur the next day. Once Merle had stopped cackling from his last inappropriate comment and Daryl had calmed Lyla down by speaking soothingly in German to her, the older Dixon stood and made his way over to the couple on the log. Lyla was still glaring at him, which caused Daryl to chuckle softly and kiss her roughly on the side of her head.

"Ah suppose y'all be wanting the tent to yer horny selves tonight?"

He received a kick to the shins from Lyla at that comment. Daryl looked like he was thinking hard for a few seconds before he responded to his brother.

"Nah we'll sleep in the back of the truck," he scratched the side of his face, "We got enough pillows and shit so it should be fine."

"Well alright then."

With that Merle and Daryl made their way over to their camping area; Merle to sleep and Daryl to collect the things he needed to make the back of the truck comfortable. Lyla sighed to herself contentedly as she watched her two boys walk away. Merle was a real asshole and free-loader, but Lyla knew enough about the Dixon's childhood to understand that he really did do everything in his power to protect Daryl. She knew that Daryl meant everything to him and she was able to look past his less desirable traits because of that fact. She shifted her gaze to Daryl's back and nearly moaned in appreciation as she took in his broad shoulders and toned arms. She'd always been a back and arms girl, so she really got the cream of the crop with Daryl Dixon. She was shaken out of her thoughts as she distantly heard her name being repeated. She turned back to the group and saw that Glenn was apparently the one who had been calling her name.

"Huh?" was her eloquent response.

Glenn smirked at her dazed expression and flushed face.

"Jeez Merle really wasn't kidding about tonight was he?"

The group snickered as Lyla spluttered. Glenn was merciful and he spoke again.

"I was just asking you if you wanted me to grab you some clothes during the supply run tomorrow. It doesn't look like you have any with you right?"

Lyla swallowed and gave him a sheepish smile as she composed herself.

"That'd be great Glenn, but don't go out of your way. And if it puts anyone in danger just forget it ok?" she jerked a thumb in the direction of the Dixon's tent, "It's not worth it when I can just wear his stuff all the time anyway. It's what I always did when we went camping anyway, so I'm not unaccustomed to shirts with no sleeves."

They all chuckled.

"How was camping with that dude?" asked T-dog, "It scares the shit out of me to be alone with him for twenty seconds!"

The others nodded in agreement and a sad look came over Lyla's face before she addressed the group.

"Look, I know both of them can rub people the wrong way, Merle especially, but they are intrinsically good men. It's really not my place to say anything, but just know that they had a hell of a childhood and it really fucked them both up, Daryl more so, and that's why they act the way they do. Just try to keep that in mind when they blow up," the mood over the group had turned somber and everyone's eyes had shifted to stare at the ground, "I'm pretty sure the only reason they don't get nasty with me is because the one time they both called me bitch Daryl got a knee to the balls and Merle had a red handprint across his face for a week," Lyla smiled as her attempt to lighten the atmosphere after her serious words worked and laughter spread throughout the small congregation, "I wouldn't recommend that course of action though if you're trying to win them over. I've seen Daryl knock men out cold who had sixty pounds on him in one punch, and Merle, well, I think it'd suffice to say that he's a dirty fighter."

"You've witnessed that while it's happening?" asked Shane. He was making a mental note to avoid future confrontations with the Dixon brothers.

"What'd you expect?" chuckled Lyla, "They might act kinder around me but they're still my scrappy rednecks at heart. Can't change them that much."

The group noticed how fondly she spoke of the two brothers. She obviously cared about both of them enormously, and if someone as educated and kind as Lyla could love those men then maybe they had judged them too soon.

"This one time, " Lyla began and the others leaned forward, eager for another story from the Dixon's past, "We were at the local bar that we spent half our nights at, and this big Russian guy was getting a little too cozy with me if you know what I mean. Daryl was off getting more beer and Merle was chatting up some blonde so I couldn't really escape. He grabbed my arm hard and it surprised more than it hurt I guess, but I kind of gasped a little. That's when Daryl and Merle reappeared and things didn't end too pretty for old Ivan."

Everyone was on the edge of their seats but it appeared that Lyla wasn't saying anything else. She was playing with her caramel waves and a faraway look had come into her green eyes. Finally Dale spoke up.

"Well come on! Tell us what they did to him!"

Everyone laughed at the out of character thirst for violence from kindly old Dale. It was Daryl's southern drawl that answered him as stepped back into the circle with his arms filled with pillows and blankets.

"I smashed two bottles of Jack over his head and Merle lit his ass on fire," he said gruffly with no remorse.

The group howled with laughter and Daryl looked around confused, never having gotten a reaction like that from any of them before.

"Bunch a' weirdoes," he huffed and nudged Lyla's side with his boot, "Ya look like yer about to keel over yankee."

Lyla smiled sleepily at him and used his forearm to help her come to a standing position. She waved and said good night to the group before letting Daryl lead her away from the fire. Everyone repeated her good night back to her and many of them said it to Daryl too, which caused him to cast a shrewd look in their direction. Lyla chuckled at his response before laying her head on his shoulder and leading him towards the truck.

Once all of the blankets and pillows were situated in the truck bed, Daryl sat on the edge of the bed and began to unlace his shoes. Lyla copied his action. After he had removed his shoes and socks, Daryl stripped off his shirt and pants. Lyla knew that he always slept in just his boxers or the nude. Her eyes raked over his exposed chest and she began to feel heat creep along her body. Daryl turned and saw her staring at him with her face flushed. He smirked and drew her to him by the waist before kissing her deeply. Their tongues entwined and they continued to kiss for a minute or two. She had both her hands on his sides and he had one hand on her lower back and one in her long hair. He felt a shudder run through her body. He pulled back and hoisted her into the truck bed.

He looked around the area. The truck was secluded from the rest of camp by a thicket of trees but whoever was on watch would still be able to warn them of walkers in their immediate area. He jumped into the back to join Lyla and pulled the back of the tailgate closed. His eyes fell on Lyla's form sprawled out over the makeshift bed. He crawled forward until his body was braced over hers and then he leaned down the kiss the tip of her tanned, freckly nose.

"I missed you."

"I love you."

He smiled as she repeated his words from before back to him and she giggled. He pressed his mouth onto hers hard and she groaned as his teeth grazed her bottom lip. His hands found the bottom of her tank top and they slipped underneath its hem. Lyla gasped as his warm hands found her breasts and began to tease her taut nipples.

"Daryl…" she moaned.

He silenced her with another hard kiss and pulled him closer by putting her hand behind his neck. She sat up suddenly and pulled her tank top over her head in one fluid motion. She saw his eyes darken as he took in her topless form and he launched forward to assault her neck with his mouth. Lyla moaned once again in pleasure and her hands found their way to his lower back. He cupped one of her breasts in his large palm and his other hand traveled down to her shorts clad thighs. She moaned louder as she felt him begin to stroke her through her shorts. She'd hadn't been with him in months and if he kept this up she wasn't going to last very long.

"Daryl, please," she gasped, "I need you now."

He pulled back and looked at her parted lips and heaving chest.

"Alright darlin'."

He lowered his hands to her shorts and fumbled with the button and zipper for a moment forward he got them undone. She lifted her hips and he pulled her shorts and her panties off in one swift movement. He tossed them to the side and pulled his own boxers off before sliding up her body once again. He nudged her legs further apart with one of his knees and she gasped loudly when she felt quickly plunge inside of her. They both gripped each other tightly and didn't move for a few moments, and then they simultaneously began to move. Neither of them lasted long once they began to thrust into each other, and within minutes both tensed up as they climaxed together. Daryl let out a long breath and collapsed on top of her. He buried his face into Lyla's neck and he felt her hands wrap around his back and hold his sweaty body tightly to her own.

They stayed pressed together like that until their panting stopped completely. Daryl pressed a hard kiss to her temple and rolled off of her. She immediately turned into his side and he lifted his arm so that she could rest her head in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and she rested her hand on his chest where she traced his scars with her fingers.

"Sorry Ah didn't last longer darlin'," he said lowly.

Lyla lifted her head to look at his face.

"What the hell are you apologizing for? I came just as fucking quick as you did."

"Guess that's true," he smiled and she smiled back before placing her face back in his neck, "You were so fuckin' wet."

Lyla rolled her eyes against his neck and he squirmed as her long eyelashes tickled his chin.

"Well what do you expect?" she asked, "It's been nearly four months since we've been with each other, and my fingers just aren't as skilled I guess."

She smiled as she felt his chuckle in his chest before she heard it. He raised his hand to stroke through her soft hair.

"Damn straight," she could practically feel his chest puff up and she could clearly picture the smirk he had on his face, "Plus Ah forgot that ya have the libido of a 14-year-old boy."

She slapped her hand to her face to stop her hysterical laughter from spilling out. That method didn't seem to be working so she turned her head and bit Daryl's chest to quell the sounds of her laughter. He just chuckled at her actions and kissed the top of her head. He leaned down, making Lyla detach for mouth from his chest and whine in protest, and pulled the thick comforter over their entwined bodies. He lay back down and pulled her head up to meet his. He pressed a long soft kiss to the plump lips that he loved so much and whispered I love you against them. She smiled and repeated in back before settling her head into his neck once more. Within minutes they both fell into easy sleeps.

* * *

Daryl jerked awake and pushed a grumbling Lyla off of him as a loud thud broke him from his restful sleep. He scrambled in panic for a moment before he saw that the source of the noise was just Merle banging his rifle against the side of the truck. Daryl glared hard at his brother while squinting in the sunlight. He tried to wipe the rub the sleep form his eyes with one hand while the other gripped Lyla's shoulder to assure her that everything was fine. Merle chuckled at the sight of his disheveled baby brother and his chuckles turned to raucous laughter when Daryl sat up and the blanket slid down to reveal his bare chest. Lyla sat up in confusion and shrieked when she saw Merle standing there. She quickly pulled the comforter over her shoulders to cover herself. This only caused Merle to laugh even harder.

"Aww hell," he said in between bouts of laughter, "Y'all are fuckin' nekkid in broad daylight."

Daryl glared at him and saw that some of the other campers were making their way over after hearing all the noise.

"No one was fuckin' over here 'till you came along Merle."

Merle only cackled loudly at his brother. Lyla groaned from beside Daryl as the other campers reached the truck.

They took in the sight of Daryl, Lyla, and the still cackling Merle. Between Merle's laughter and the couples bare skin and crazy hair, they didn't need to ask what was going on. Daryl grew uncomfortable as he saw many of their eyes openly staring at the many scars on his chest and he frantically looked around the blankets for his shirt. Merle quieted immediately when he saw his little brother's distress and began to shoo the other campers away.

"Alright back the fuck up, nothin' fer yer pryin' eyes to see here. Scram!"

Once the campers had all dispersed Merle turned back to the embarrassed pair of people in the truck. Lyla was speaking quietly in German to Daryl as she rubbed his arm soothingly. Daryl looked up as Merle cleared his throat and saw this his older brother was rubbing the back of his head and looking guilty.

"Sorry 'bout that baby bro. Didn't mean ta make all them come over here. Jus' wanted to tell ya that we're leavin' fer the raid in Atlanta. Ah'll see ya in a few days, have some meat waitin' for me."

Daryl nodded at his brother and Lyla smiled at the apologetic redneck.

"Behave yourself Merle, that's an order."

He chuckled and saluted her before giving them both a wave and jogging back over to the group of people gathered around the fire pit. Daryl fell back against the pillows and ran his hands through his too long hair. Lyla fell back beside him. She removed one of his hands from his hair and began to stroke it herself.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You know that right?"

Daryl sighed and closed his eyes.

"Ah ain't ashamed of anything. I just don't want no fuckin' pity directed at me from everyone."

Lyla continued to srun his fingers through his hair and she felt the tension slowly leaving him.

"I know, I know," she said in a soothing voice, "But you know they're going to ask me about you. They won't do for malicious reasons, they're just curious. Tell me what you want me to do?"

Daryl let out a long breath and opened his eyes to look at her. He looked scared and young again, just like he had at the quarry the night before.

"Can-can ya just tell them something to get them off ma back?" he said nervously, "I don't want no one followin' me around thinkin' I need to talk or something."

Lyla smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his forehead gently.

"Of course."

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. He sat up and grabbed her face roughly before pulling her in for a rough kiss. He pulled back and stared at her hard.

"Love ya yank," he said gruffly.

He pushed her away gently and began rummaging around for his clothes. Lyla let out a content sigh and began to do the same. Once Daryl was fully dressed he jumped off the back of the truck and turned around to help Lyla down. She had her tank top on but was still looking around the truck bed for her shorts and panties.

"Fuck," she muttered, "Where the hell did my clothes go?"

She felt something soft hit her in the face and she looked down to see a pair of blue boxers in her hands. She looked up and saw Daryl's smirking face close to hers. She giggled and slid the boxers onto her legs and into place. She pulled on his long-sleeved plaid shirt from the night before and took his outstretched hand as she hopped off the truck bed. She rolled Daryl's boxers up a few times so they weren't so baggy then she latched onto his arm once more and pulled him towards the area where the coffee smell was wafting from.

**Thanks for reading! If you have any suggestions or things that you want to see happen just post your ideas in the reviews! Also I wanted to ask you guys if you wanted a lot of graphic smut scenes in this story. I know that I get bored reading scenes like that wen there are soooo many in a fic, but if you guys like them I'll keep them in because I have fun writing them. Let me know your thoughts in the reviews!**


	4. Harsh Truths and Revelations

**disclaimer: I do not own the walking dead.**

**AN- Hi everyone! Thank you all so much for your reviews! They really mean a lot to me and your enthusiasm helps me churn out these chapters quickly. It seems that most of you feel the same way I do about smut so thats great. This story will definitely have a lot of it but it won't be in every single chapter. I feel like it gets boring to read when it's in a story so often. Once again if you have anything specific you want to see happen or a suggestion just post in in your reviews and I'll see what I can do!**

**CHAPTER 4**

The remaining campers that were preparing breakfast around the fire pit looked up as they heard a spout of laughter from Lyla. She and Daryl were strolling towards the group of people, the latter with his arm hanging carelessly around her shoulder as his other hand scratched the back of his head. He was muttering something under his breath, and that combined with Lyla's laughter made it apparent to the others that she was poking fun at the redneck. Once the pair reached the area around the fire pit Daryl removed his arm from Lyla's shoulder and gently pushed her to sit on one of the logs. Then he stalked off towards his tent without saying anything as Lyla watched him go with her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Lori coughed and Lyla turned back around the stare at the others with a smile on her face.

"Morning," she said brightly. She looked around at the campers that hadn't gone on the supply run. Carol, Lori, Amy, Dale, Jim, and the kids were all clustered in the area. Lori and Carol were preparing the food while the others waited around in anticipation. The adults gave her knowing looks based on the fact that the majority of the clothing she wore was Daryl's. Lyla pretended not to notice the smirks that they exchanged. Lori poured some coffee into two cups and brought them both over to the younger woman.

"Here you go sweetie," said Lori kindly while eyeing the pair of boxers Lyla was wearing, "Hopefully Glenn can find you some of your own clothes in the city?"

Lyla took the cups with a smile and thanked her.

"I don't really mind," she shrugged, "Besides, I look better in them than he does anyway."

The group laughed and Lori patted Lyla on the shoulder before walking away. Their laughter suddenly cut off and Lyla looked behind her to see that Daryl had reappeared. Daryl's eyes shifted around the group. Some of them were casting sympathetic glances towards him and he knew they were thinking about his scars. He glared at everyone before deciding to ignore them and focused all of his attention on the slim girl sitting before him. She thrust one of the cups of coffee towards him and he stared at her for a moment before taking it. He downed it in one gulp and muttered a thank you. He made no move to sit down and it was then that Lyla noticed he had his crossbow slung over one of his broad shoulders. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Daryl glanced between her and the others warily. He knew the others were furtively watching the exchange between him and his girlfriend.

"Huntin'," he said gruffly as he avoided meeting her eyes, "We need more meat. Can't survive on this canned shit fer much longer."

Lyla stood up abruptly, her own coffee quickly forgotten. She put a hand on his cheek and roughly pulled his head up so that he was looking at her eyes. He saw the panic in her eyes.

"No," she said vehemently, "We just found each other again. You can't leave again, not yet!"

Daryl sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to have an inner debate for a moment before he sighed again and reached out for Lyla.

"Come 'ere," he said gruffly. He held her tightly to him with his free arm pressing into the top of her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head and felt her arms sneak around his waist, "Ya know Ah ain't got no choice darlin'. It's jus' the way its gotta be be. Ya want those kids ta starve?"

He felt her mumble into his chest as her hands tightened their grip on his shirt.

"No…but it isn't fair."

"Ah know," he pulled back and looked at her face. She had unshed tears in her eyes and looked miserable, "Cheer up yank. Ain't nothin' in those woods that can kill a Dixon," his heart lightened when he saw the corners of her lips pull up. He raised his hand to the back of her neck, "Love ya'."

She smiled sadly and lifted her hand to his cheek.

"I love you too."

He nodded brusquely and pulled her forward to place a rough, fast kiss on her lips.

"See ya tomorrow," he said against her lips, "Keep yer guns on ya and stay in the tent with Merle tonight ya hear?"

Then he pushed her away gently and strolled into the woods.

Lyla sat back down on the log with a huff. She picked up her coffee and stared at it glumly before taking a gulp. Carol walked over and sat beside her. She set a bowl of watery oatmeal beside the girl.

"Why don't you come down to the quarry with me and the other women today Lyla? We're going to do some laundry and it might take your mind off of your worries."

Lyla smiled.

"Sure Carol. Let me just go grab the dirty stuff from Daryl and Merle's tent. I'm sure they've got a ton."

* * *

Thirty minutes later Lyla found herself down by the water with Amy, Lori, Carol, and Jacqui laughing at a story that Lori was telling. The day had quickly become hot and muggy, and Daryl's too-big plaid shirt was lying in a heap of his freshly washed clothes next to Lyla. Her tank top was sticking to her everywhere. She wiped a hand on her sweaty brow as she dunked yet another sleeveless shirt into the quarry. Her long, wavy hair was piled into a heap on the top of her head. She wanted nothing more than to take a dip into the cool water. She was enjoying laughing and sharing stories with the other women, but she dreaded the inevitable question about Daryl's scars.

"So Lyla," started Lori with a grin on her face, "Is there any particular reason for Daryl's aversion to sleeves, or does he just like to show off those arms of his?"

"They are spectacular," agreed Jacqui.

"And those shoulders," Amy practically moaned, "They're so broad."

Lyla openly gaped at all of them.

"I was under the impression that none of you guys were too fond of the Dixon boys?"

"Well," reasoned Lori, "They scare us, but that doesn't mean we can't appreciate the goods."

The women broke out into giggles and Lyla shook her head fondly at their behavior. She knew they didn't mean anything by it.

"Once all of you ladies are done vividly describing my boyfriend's arms," she said with a roll of her eyes, "I'll answer Lori's question."

Their giggles quieted down.

"I'm sure you all know that Daryl doesn't give a rat's ass about what other people think about him, so he doesn't intentionally do anything to make himself seem bad-ass. That part of him is just natural," she smirked and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, "Anyway, he's never said anything outright about it but I'm pretty sure it's just because he's so hot all the time," she saw all of them raise their eyebrows, "Not like that! Jeez you guys are horny."

Amy had tears on her face from laughing so hard.

"But seriously he must have an unnaturally fast metabolism or something because he's like a walking furnace. Except for that time I took him to New York. That man is all southern and he was not prepared for a Mid-Atlantic winter. He nearly spent the whole trip huddled in the bed under mounds of covers. Apart from that single time though, he's always moving around, never sits still, and he always feels like he's got a fever. Not to mention the fact that he eats enough for a small army."

"But he's so...so lean!" Exclaimed Amy. Lyla just shrugged.

"Like I said, he must have a fast metabolism. I eat like a horse too so its best not to try to talk to us during meal time."

"Damn I wish I had the same genes as you two, all tall and toned. Y'all would make some good-looking babies."

Lyla laughed.

"Well it's not looking like kids are a good idea in today's zombie infested world."

Lori looked up at her while wringing out a shirt.

"Were you thinking about it before?"

Lyla nearly choked on the gulp of water she had taken from a canteen. She spluttered for a moment before Carol gave her a hard pat on the back.

"Thanks," she said to Carol before looking at her hands and playing with her fingers nervously, "Honestly, kids were never going to be a part of our future."

Carol placed a gentle hand on her thin shoulder.

"Are you infertile?" she asked. Lyla's eyes widened.

"What? No, nothing like that. I always wanted kids but Daryl was always adamantly against having them. He was scared stiff that he'd be a bad father. I was willing to give up having kids for him and I've never regretted that decision."

Lori nodded. Amy just looked confused.

"Why would he think that he'd be a bad dad?" she asked. Lyla swallowed a few mouthfuls and water and shielded her green eyes from the sun as she began to speak. She figured that she might as well just get this difficult conversation over with on her terms.

"It has to do with the problems he had with his own father. Look, I know you guys all saw the scars that Daryl has on his chest before, and you probably have a hell of a lot of questions. I'll tell you what happened, but just promise me that you won't ask Daryl about anything. He won't react well."

She waited for them to nod in acquiescence before she continued.

"I said before that the Dixons had a shitty childhood, particularly Daryl, and I'll tell you what I mean by that. Their mom died when they were young, fell asleep smoking and went up in flames. Their daddy didn't take it well and he started to abuse the bottle heavily. That's when the violence started. Merle was lucky because he was already big enough to defend himself, but Daryl was only six. Merle protected him the best he could, but he got into some pretty serious drugs and between that and his time in the army Daryl was left alone with their shithead of a father. Merle managed to find his way back when he was twenty-five and Daryl was fourteen, but most of the damage was done by then. He found Daryl beaten and barely alive. The drunken old bastard was stupid and tried to take a swing at Merle, which was a huge mistake on his part. Merle wound up beating him up so bad that he put him in a coma. He died a few days later. Daryl spent a few weeks in the hospital and Merle got let off on a convoluted case of self-defense. Daryl was really messed up for a while after that, or so Merle tells me, and it took him a long time to get back to normal. Well, as normal as anyone can be after years of abuse at the hands of one of their parents."

She let out a shaky breath and wiped her fingers under her eyes. The others all had horrified expressions on their faces. Carol's eyes were glazed over and Lori had her hands over her mouth.

"So that's why he doesn't like going to the hospital?" Lyla nodded at the thin brunette, "And all of those marks on his chest?" she gasped, "They're all from his-his…"

"His father, yes," Lyla all but spat. She took a big breath and seemed to deflate, "Now I think you can all understand why Merle is so protective of Daryl. I don't think he's ever fully forgiven himself for not being there when he was alone with their dad. He'd die before he let anything else happen to Daryl."

Amy looked heartbroken and was grabbing at the ends of her blonde hair in distress.

"Did Daryl tell you all of this?" she asked, "No offense but I can't picture him opening up about all of that."

Lyla shook her head.

"He didn't. I've only ever managed to get pieces out of him and even that wasn't without a whole lot of effort on my part," she rubbed her hands up and down her tan arms, "Merle took me to the bar one night when he realized that we were getting serious and told me everything. He wanted to give me some warning so I wouldn't freak out and run for it when Daryl got bad."

"Got bad?" questioned Jacqui.

"After living like he did with his father for so long, his head was understandably a little messed up. Sometimes he doesn't know quite how to react in emotionally charged situations, and he either lashes out like I'm sure you've all seen, or he regresses. He might be eight years older than me but when that happens I might as well be comforting a toddler. So do you all understand why those two act the way they do?"

They all nodded. Lori squeezed her knee comfortingly.

"Of course honey."

"Just treat Daryl as you normally would and whatever you do don't show him any pity ok? He doesn't pity himself and he doesn't want you all to either," she said empathetically.

"We can do that," Amy said while nodding vigorously along with the others, "Now lets finish up with wash and grab some lunch."

Lyla smiled at her appreciatively and grabbed another one of Daryl's shirts form the pile.

* * *

Lyla sprinted as fast as she could up the path towards the car siren that was undoubtedly drawing every damn walker in a hundred mile radius. She reached the camp and put her hands on her knees to catch her breath. When her breathing had become normal once more she looked up and saw a shiny red sports car in the middle of camp with a van behind it. Glenn jumped out of the red car and started shouting with Shane and Dale. She flinched when Shane shot the car but sighed in relief when the siren finally stopped. The doors to the van opened and people began to spill out. Lyla saw an unfamiliar man drop to his knees and hug Carl and Lori. This must have been Lori's assumed to be dead husband that she had told stories of before when they were doing the wash. Lyla smiled as she watched the happy family reunion take place. It seemed like there were a lot of reunions happening lately.

She placed her hands on her hips and looked around for Merle. She didn't like being without a Dixon, even for just a few hours, so she was really keen to banter with him for a bit. She also wanted to speak with him alone and ask how Daryl had been doing for the last few months. Merle would give her a more honest answer than Daryl. Lyla felt her stomach slowly filling with dread the longer she looked for his face in the crowd of campers. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around and saw Glenn standing behind her holding out a stuffed shopping bag towards her.  
"Here," he said, "It's mostly just basic stuff but I think it'll do alright. I grabbed as much as I could and then Andrea insisted on picking out some things for you as well."

Lyla ignored his offering as a muscle twitched in her jaw. She felt as though she was going to crack.

"Glenn," she spoke in a low and dangerous tone, "Where the fuck is Merle?"

Glenn looked around nervously and his eyes refused to meet hers.

"You have to promise me that you won't freak ok Lyla?"

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE GLENN?" she shouted, effectively drawing the whole camp's attention to the two of them. Glenn opened his mouth to speak but a new voice cut him off.

"We haven't met yet," Lori's long lost husband was standing near Lyla's side and extending his hand, "My name's Rick Grimes."

"I don't give a fuck who you are," said Lyla coldly. Her clear, green eyes were flashing in anger and her nostrils were flaring, "Just tell me where the hell my friend is."

Rick sighed and lowered his unshaken hand.

"We ran into a problem in Atlanta."

Lyla's eyes lost some of their anger and fear flashed through them instead.

"Is he dead?" she asked before swallowing and preparing for the worst.

"We aren't sure."

"What the fuck do you mean you aren't sure?" the anger was back in full force.

The group that had formed a half circle around the arguing pair were looking back and forth between the two anxiously.

"He was a danger to the group so I chained him to a pipe on the roof."

Some people gasped, others moaned, but Lyla hadn't flinched. In fact she looked eerily calm. Somehow this made the campers even more scared of the thin girl clad in only a tank top and a pair of boxers. She narrowed her eyes slightly and leveled an even glare at the Sherriff's Deputy before speaking in a deathly calm voice.

"Are you telling me that you left my boyfriend's older brother and only living family stranded on a hot roof to die?"

"I had to. He was tweaking."

T-dog barely managed to wrap his arms around Lyla's waist as she launched herself at the cop screaming the whole way.

"SO YOU LEFT A FUCKING MAN WHO WAS NOT EVEN IN HIS RIGHT MIND TO DIE A HORRIBLE DRAWN OUT DEATH?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU! Wo zum Teufel ist die Gerechtigkeit in diesem Offizier? Du bist ein verdammtes Arschloch Polizist und Sie besser mit einem offenen Auge schlafen, weil ich gehe-!" (_Where the fuck is the justice in that officer?_ _You're a fucking asshole cop and you better sleep with one eye open because I am going to-)_

"LYLA!" yelled Glenn, cutting her off.

"WHAT?" she yelled right back as she still struggled against T-dog's muscular arms.

"No more German, please," Glenn begged. This got Lyla to pause in her struggling, as she hadn't noticed herself slip into the other language. T-dog looked at her cautiously before setting her back down on the ground. He kept his hands on her shoulders as a precaution. She barely stopped herself from launching at Rick again. Instead she shoved T-dog's hands off and strode towards the edge of the group of campers. She paused as she passed Lori and looked the woman in the eyes. Lori reached out to grab her shoulder when she saw that Lyla's eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Remember what I said before about how Daryl deals with emotional situations?" she asked darkly and Lori swallowed as she nodded hurriedly, "Well you're in for a show tomorrow, and I don't think I'll be able to control him this time."

With that she stormed off towards Daryl's truck, leaving the group with shocked and worried faces as she went.

"Oh fuck…" moaned T-dog.

* * *

Lyla had tears running down her face as she gathered the pillows and blankets from the truck bed. She made sure to grab both of her shotguns as well before she made her way over to Daryl and Merle's tent. She noticed that Glenn had placed the bag of clothing against a chair right outside but she didn't pay any attention to it as she stormed into the tent and angrily zipped the entrance back up. She threw all the bedding into a heap in the middle of the tent. She stripped off all her clothing except her underwear and pulled on one of Daryl's shirt from the pile of clean laundry she had done before. She buttoned it up, ripped the elastic out of her long hair, and nearly collapsed against the mess of blankets on the floor. She found Daryl's pillow and hugged it to her chest. She breathed in his scent of musky pine and then found herself crying even harder.

She thought of how Daryl was going to react when he found out about Merle and frankly the thought scared her. What she said to Lori was the truth; she wouldn't be able to calm him down or control him, not in this situation. She didn't know how he was going to react besides that there would be a massive explosion of some sort.

She continued to cry as she thought of Daryl and Merle separated; both alone and lost without the other. She knew she would do whatever it took to reunite the two brothers and it was this thought that comforted her as she fell asleep breathing in Daryl's scent from his pillow.

* * *

Lyla jerked awake suddenly and realized that it was screaming coming from outside that woke her. She grabbed one of her shotguns and shot out of the tent. She didn't bother with shoes or pants; her mind was focused on the potential danger. She ran through the camp barefoot towards the source of the screaming. She rounded a big rock just in time to see Daryl throw a string of squirrels and launch himself at Rick with his hunting knife in his hand. She opened her mouth to scream but Shane moved impossibly fast and in the next instant he had Daryl in a headlock. Lyla's breath caught in her throat as she saw the look of blind panic cross her boyfriend's face. This position struck a little too close to home for him and Lyla could practically see his brain shutting off all reasonable thought, leaving only fear in its place.

She felt herself automatically pump the shotgun and level it at the burly cop. Everyone's eyes turned to her, just realizing that she had arrived at the scene, and somewhere in the back of her mind Lyla registered how ridiculous she looked. Here she was in nothing more than a pair of black panties and one of Daryl's sleeveless shirts. Her hair was probably a mess and she was aiming a gun that dwarfed her small frame at a man who easily had ninety pounds on her. She snapped from her stray thoughts back to the current situation.

"Let him go Shane," she said slowly, "Or I swear to God I will blow your fucking head off."

Shane made no move to release Daryl and Lyla shifted her gun before Lori's voice rang out.

"Drop him! Do it Shane, now!"

Shane nodded at her and pushed Daryl away from him roughly. Lyla looked at Lori with wide eyes. Lori met her gaze and offered her a small smile. Lyla mouthed thank you. It seemed like Lori had remembered what she had told her about Daryl's past and recognized the desperation and panic in his face as an indicator of similar situations in the past.

Lyla dropped to the ground where Daryl was lying on his stomach as he wheezed and coughed. She placed a hand on his shoulder while glaring harshly at Shane and speaking lowly in German. Daryl ignored her and pushed himself up to a seated position. He looked menacingly at T-dog.

"Why didn't you fucking uncuff him?" he snarled. His blue eyes were wild and feral looking.

"I went back to man, I swear," responded T-dog, his voice an octave or two higher than it usually was. He was clearly afraid of upsetting the redneck even further, "But I dropped the key!"

Daryl dropped his head into his hands.

"You couldn't pick it the fuck up?"

"I dropped it down a drain," T-dog's voice was meek.

Daryl groaned into his hands.

"I chained the door to the roof though!" both Daryl and Lyla's head snapped towards him. This was news to both of them, "There ain't no way any walkers can break through a padlock like that."

"That has to count for something," said Rick while nodding. Daryl stayed completely still for a moment before shooting up and rubbing at his eyes.

"To hell with all y'all," Lyla nearly started crying when his voice broke, "Just tell me where the hell he is so Ah can go get 'im."

"He'll show you," Lori said while looking at her husband, "He's going back."

"I am," agreed Rick, "We'll leave in a couple of hours. We all need to get some rest and prepare ourselves to go back in."

Daryl looked at him for a moment before stalking off towards his tent. Lyla glanced around the group for a moment before quickly darting after him. When she got into the tent Daryl was already lying face down in the blankets wearing only his boxers. Lyla set her gun down by the entrance and settled next to him. Daryl turned his head towards her and she saw that his eyes were red and watery. He reached for the buttons on her shirt and slowly undid them all. He pushed it off her shoulders and flung it to the side of the tent.

"Daryl," Lyla started softly, "I don't think that now is a good time for us to-"

She stopped speaking as he placed his head on her bare chest and threw one arm over her waist to grip her side tightly with his fingers. Lyla sighed as she felt wetness on her skin and she lifted a hand to run through his hair over and over again.

"It's okay," she whispered, "It will all be okay."

She continued to stroke his hair until she felt his breathing deepen as he drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

**THANKS SO MUCH!**


	5. Back to Atlanta

**disclaimer: I do not own any part of the walking dead.**

**Thank you so much for all your reviews once again! They really motivate me to get these chapters out quickly. Feel free to post suggestions in your reviews. Thanks!**

**CHAPTER 5**

Lyla stared up at the ceiling of the tent as she absentmindedly continued to stroke Daryl's shaggy hair. His sleep was uneasy and every few minutes she felt his fingers tighten their hold on her side. She whispered comfortingly to him each time this happened until his fingers loosened their grip. His breath tickled her chest with each exhale. She let her fingers lightly trace over the two large tattoos on his back and smiled as she remembered how much they had turned her on when she first saw them. She then ran her free hand over his shoulder and down the hard bands of muscles in his arm. Then she moved her hand back up again.

She didn't know how long she sat there stroking Daryl as he slept but she snapped out of her calm state when she heard the zipper to the tent being pulled down. She hastily pulled a blanked over Daryl's back and her chest. It was slightly unnerving that Daryl, who was usually a light sleeper and aware of everything happening around him, hadn't been woken up by the noise or the movement. Lyla guessed that his previous outburst had physically drained him as well as emotionally. Lori poked her head in the tent and smiled tentatively as she looked over the young couple. She also placed the shopping bag full of clothes from Glenn on the inside.

"Hey," she said softly, "I just came to tell you that the others are getting ready to head back into the city, and I thought you'd rather I came instead of one of the others."

Lyla nodded in response. Lori offered her another brief smile and started to pull her head back out of the tent.

"Lori wait," said Lyla hurriedly, "I just wanted to thank you for everything. You've been so kind to me and you barely know me. And thank you for making Shane let Daryl go before. I don't think he would have if you hadn't."

Lori nodded kindly.

"It's really no problem sweetie," she said. Then a hard look came into her eyes, "And I saw the way Daryl looked in that chokehold. I don't care who it is, I don't want to see that kind of fear on anyone's face."

Lyla's eyes watered at the display of compassion from Lori. Lyla knew she didn't even like the Dixons but the mother in her still defended Daryl when she saw how scared and panicked he had been. It meant a lot to Lyla to know that maybe she wouldn't be the only person looking out for Daryl anymore.

"I'll tell them he'll be ready in a few minutes."

She withdrew her head from the tent and zipped it back up before Lyla could say anything else.

"Daryl," she said at a normal volume, "Daryl come on, wake up, we've got to leave."

She felt him stir slightly and then he lifted his head to look at her. His blue eyes were clouded and bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every direction as a result of her hands playing with it. He cleared his throat then suddenly rolled over, holding her to him so that her naked chest was pressed against his own. He sighed deeply.

Lyla groaned.

"Come on redneck, let's get moving. We've got to go collect older redneck from a rooftop."

Daryl suddenly pushed her off of him and was sitting up. He glared at her as his hands gripped the blankets on either side of him so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

"What the fuck do ya mean we?" he growled.

Lyla could quickly see where this was headed. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared right back.

"I'm obviously going with you. Merle's might as well be my brother too."

In the back of her head she smirked as she saw Daryl get momentarily distracted by the cleavage her crossed arms was creating. He shook his head and stood up with a sarcastic laugh.

"Like hell ya are," he said as he pulled on a pair of jeans and his boots. Lyla copied him and started getting dressed. She pulled a pair of dark jeans out of the bag Lori had left for her and pulled them and her hiking boots on.

"Yeah, I am," she challenged as he threw on a loose black tank top and one of Daryl's sleeveless plaid shirts. She threw another one at him and then pulled her long hair into a ponytail. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at Daryl once more. He glared right back while holding the shirt she had thrown at him in his hands, "So you might as well quit complaining because it isn't going to change anything."

With that she grabbed her two shotguns and stormed out of the tent. She shielded her eyes against the harsh afternoon sunlight with one hand. Glenn, Rick, and T-dog were standing near the van so she started to make her way over to them. Glenn waved when he saw her coming. She was almost to them when she heard an angry yell come from behind her.

"You ain't fuckin' goin'!"

Lyla whipped around and watched as Daryl charged out of the tent and stumbled a bit as the sun assaulted his still sensitive eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned and if the situation hadn't been so tense Lyla would have laughed at his half-dressed ass stumbling around. When his eyes got accustomed to the brightness Daryl grabbed his crossbow from beside the tent and marched over to where the small group was assembled. The rest of the camp watched with baited breath as the couple stared each other down.

"You ain't fuckin' goin'," repeated Daryl.

"Oh yeah?" questioned Lyla in disbelief. Her green eyes were wide, "And why the fuck is that?"

"Cuz Ah fuckin' said so!" screamed Daryl as his accent became heavier with each word. There was a pregnant pause as everyone waited for Lyla's reaction. Then the German came and the whole camp groaned at their loss of understanding.

"Wer zum Teufel bist du mir sagen, was zu Daryl tun? Du bist nicht mein Vater!" (_Who the hell are you to tell me what to do Daryl? You're not my father!_)

Daryl's teeth ground together and his face was slowly getting more and more red.

He took a breath before shouting back at his girlfriend.

"Ich sage Ihnen, was zu tun, weil ich über das, was geschieht, um Sie kümmern, und anscheinend haben Sie keinen Sinn für Selbsterhaltung!" (_I'm telling you what to do because I care about what happens to you, and apparently you have no sense of self-preservation_)

His grammer was a little off but Lyla understood the point he was trying to make. She sighed angrily and put a hand on her forehead in exasperation. When she spoke again her tone still held a lot of anger but she was speaking more calmly than she had before.

"Und ich werde, weil ich über das, was geschieht, um Sie zu kümmern. Sie und Merle." (_And I'm going because I care about what happens to _you_. You and Merle_)

Daryl still looked incredibly pissed off but he made no move to say anything back to his girlfriend.

"There's no point in arguing over this Daryl," she said evenly, "Either you take me with you willingly or I'll start running. It's only about eight miles to the city, I'll get there in less than an hour."

The group looked confused at her last statement, but Daryl just gripped his messy hair with both hands and groaned. He looked defeated.

"Fuckin' marathon runner…" he mumbled and Lyla smirked, "Ah shoulda made you smoke more."

He let his arms fall back to his side and then he strode to stand directly in front of Lyla. He jabbed a finger at her threateningly.

"Fine," he said, "Ah know Ah can't stop ya from comin', but since yer goin' with us ya better listen to me alright? Ya stay with me the whole damn time got it? No runnin' off or any shit like that."

Lyla knew that his tone must have sounded angry and harsh to the other campers, but she could hear the desperation and worry behind his words. She put the guns in the holster on her back and reached forward to begin buttoning up his shirt.

"Ok," she said softly, "I promise."

Daryl nodded swiftly and pulled her forward with one strong arm to roughly push a kiss to the side of her head.

"But…" she started as she pulled away. Daryl quickly slapped a hand over her mouth and glared at her again.

"No fuckin' buts," he growled. Then he smirked, "And lickin' ma hand won't make me take it off."

He dropped his tan, calloused hand anyway and Lyla rolled her eyes. Daryl broke his gaze away from her and looked up to see Glenn staring at the two strangely.

"What Chinaman?" he barked as he pushed Lyla lightly into the back seat of the van.

"I'm Korean," Glenn said somewhat shakily before his voice gained a little more strength, "And you guys are crazy weird sometimes between your screaming matches in German and your inability to keep your hands off each other for more than a few minutes."

Glenn thought he might have gone too far as he watched Daryl stare him down in a calculating manner. He breathed a sigh of relief when Daryl looked away and muttered a quick "fuck off". He followed Lyla into the van and slammed the door shut. They could all still hear his shout through the metal though.

"We fuckin' goin' or what?"

The other members of the "retrieve Merle Dixon team" jumped into the vehicle quickly.

* * *

Lyla flinched as Daryl pushed open the metal door and it banged into the wall of the hutch on the roof. He sprinted through and it was only a second later that she and the others heard him scream.

"No! No, no, no. MERLE!"

Lyla closed her eyes and pushed down a sob that was building in her throat. She wanted to move towards Daryl but it felt like her feet were stuck in cement. She'd never heard Daryl's voice so pained before and she suspected that the worst must have happened to Merle. She felt a warm hand land on her shoulder and she opened her eyes in surprise. Her watery green eyes looked at Rick, the owner of the hand, and took notice of the apologetic look on his face. She glared at him before shoving his hand off roughly and pushing past the others onto the roof. She quickly made her way over to Daryl, whose was pacing with his hands in his hair. He looked half-crazed and was still screaming. He had tears running down his face and the sight made Lyla want to cry, but she had to be calm and strong in order to help him.

She was almost to him when she looked down and was met with the gruesome sight of Merle's severed hand. She stifled a gasp with her hands as she stared at the appendage in horror. She worked in the medical field and had seen far grizzlier images, but the fact that this one was associated with someone she cared about so deeply made her sick to her stomach. She stumbled over to an area behind some pipes and emptied the contents of her stomach. Once she had stopped heaving, she rinsed her mouth out with water multiple times. She stumbled back around the pipes just in time to see Daryl lower his crossbow from T-dog's head and Rick lower his pistol.

Daryl bit back a sob and began pacing again. Lyla ran in front of him to stop his movement and placed her hands on his tan upper arms. He was trembling violently and his eyes had glazed over like they weren't really seeing what was around him.

"Daryl," said Lyla loudly while giving him a little shake, "Daryl look at me! Now!"

But he didn't look at her. He seemed unresponsive and totally unaware of what was happening around him. His breaths were starting to become shallow and he looked paler than she had ever seen him. His eyes were darting everywhere but not taking anything in. Lyla raised a hand to his neck and felt his heart beating at an incredibly rapid pace.

"Fuck," she whispered. She had seen this in the emergency room more times than she could count.

"What? What is it?" asked Rick looking worried. He, T-dog, and Glenn were hovering near her but keeping their distance from Daryl.

"He's having a panic attack," she mumbled as she studied her tall boyfriend carefully.

"Shit what do we do?" asked T-dog frantically.

"You three won't do a fucking thing," she said fiercely while glaring at them.

"Are-are you sure?" stuttered Glenn. He looked panicked, "We could go see if there are any medical supplies in the department store."

Lyla looked up at the three. Rick was nodding along with Glenn and T-dog looked at her imploringly. She could see that the three meant well and genuinely wanted to help. She sighed.

"Look there's no medicine for a panic attack, we just have to wait for it to pass. Why don't you guys just give him a little space alright?"

They nodded enthusiastically and quickly moved to an area of the roof about twenty feet away. Lyla watched them go before turning back to the still trembling Daryl. She pulled him closer to the pipes and then pushed his shoulders until he sat down hard on the metal. He seemed totally unaware of the way she was manhandling him. She sat on his lap, effectively straddling him, and then pulled his head down until it rested on her shoulder. She ran one hand up and down his heaving back as the other gripped the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Breath Daryl," she whispered, "I need you to calm down and take deep breathes with me. Everything is going to be fine."

She continued her movements and her whispering for what felt like hours until she finally felt his breathing begin to slow down and get deeper once more.

"That's good. Just like that."

His hands slowly came up from his sides and wrapped around her lower back. She felt his fingers grip her waist tightly as he pushed his face harder into her shoulder. He stayed like this for a few more moments then he raised his head. He looked so lost and confused. Lyla smiled at him with slightly wet eyes. She raked a hand through the hair that was sticking up on the side of his head and kissed him on the forehead.

"He's still alive," she murmured against his skin. She pulled away and grabbed his chin with her hand, "We both know it would take a hell of a lot more than this to kill Merle Dixon. That sick bastard had the balls to cut off his own hand. He can handle anything else that gets thrown at him."

She stared at Daryl's watery eyes with her own until he sniffed and then nodded. He removed a hand from her waist to wipe his eyes and then stood up, being careful to not knock her onto the ground. He crouched down next to his brother's hand on shaky legs.

"Ya got a rag or something?" he shouted hoarsely towards the three men who were watching from a distance away. T-dog practically sprinted forward, holding a red handkerchief out like a flag of surrender. Rick and Glenn followed more slowly. Daryl grabbed the handkerchief from T-dog and carefully wrapped it around Merle's hand. He stood and stared hard at the bloodstain on the roof.

"You ok man?" asked Glenn as he looked at the redneck worriedly.

"Ah'm fuckin' fine," snapped Daryl, "Turn the fuck around."

"What? Why?" Glenn questioned, but he still did what he said. When he saw Daryl open his backpack and shove the wrapped hand in it he moaned.

"Shut the fuck up," growled Daryl. Glenn quieted himself quickly. Daryl stepped away from him and squinted harshly at the sun for a moment. He then looked towards Lyla with a guarded expression on his rugged face.

"Ya sure he ain't dead?" he asked bluntly, "That's a lot of fuckin' blood."

Lyla could see the fear in his blue eyes despite his stoic expression.

"Nah," she shook her head. She pointed at the blood on the ground, "Look, there's not nearly enough blood here for him to have died of blood loss. He must have used his belt as a tourniquet or something. Smart bastard. He will die from infection though if we don't find him soon and get some antibiotics into him."

"The fuck we waitin' for then," huffed Daryl. He shouldered his crossbow and strode towards the fire escape, following the small trail of blood. As he passed Lyla he grabbed her hand and dragged her along with him, "Come on!"

Rick, Glenn, and T-dog were spurred into action by his shout and quickly scurried after the couple.

* * *

Lyla's heart was pounding and her breath was coming in gasps as she ran. She had said to Daryl before that she could make it to the city in less than an hour running, and that was the truth. She had never said anything about the almost completely uphill way back though. Her calves were burning and she felt as though her muscles were going to seize up. She couldn't imagine how the men were faring. She was sure that Rick was happy now that he'd left half the guns with the vatos.

"Almost….there," she panted from her place about fifteen feet in front of the rest. She could see where the slope evened out. She smiled briefly in victory and it was then that the sound of screams and gunshots reached them. Their cramps and pains were quickly forgotten as they charged up the remaining thirty feet and into the camp. Their eyes were met with the sight of chaos. There were zombies everywhere. Lyla froze and stared in shock at the mess of carnage that used to be camp. Suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her forward.

"Come on," hissed Daryl as he shot down a walker stumbling towards them. Lyla shook her head and grabbed one of her shotguns from her back. She reloaded her weapon again and again as she methodically blew the heads off of walker after walker. She could see Daryl doing the same with his crossbow from right beside her. They dropped at least fifteen walkers together in under two minutes. When no more came at them they lowered their weapons breathing heavily. A high-pitched scream broke the air and they whipped their heads toward the source of the noise. It was Sophia. She had somehow gotten separated from the main cluster of people and was crawling backwards as the only remaining walker bore down on her. Daryl and Lyla were the only two within thirty feet of the little girl. Lyla darted forward just as she felt Daryl's fingers skim the back of her shirt.

"No Lyla!" she heard him scream behind her as she ran, "Dammit!"

The walker turned towards her as it heard her sprint up behind it. She brought her gun up and pulled the trigger. It clicked but nothing happened. _Shit_, she thought to herself as she dropped the weapon and grabbed the other one form her back. This one clicked when she pulled the trigger as well. She checked her pockets but she was out of ammo. _Double shit_. The walker was stumbling towards her now. She turned her gun around and gripped the barrel with both hands before swinging it with all her might at the walker's head. She felt the impact vibrate through her arms and her hands lost their grip on the barrel. The gun clattered to the ground just as the half-dead walker lunged forward and knocked her onto the ground. She shrieked as it began to claw at her and she vaguely registered Daryl shout her name from somewhere near by.

Suddenly the walker's movements ceased and it slumped against her. She nearly cried with relief when she saw a feathered bolt protruding from its skull. Then the walker was being shoved off of her and two familiar arms were pulling her up. Daryl's face was torn between anger and worry as he bent down and stared at her. She was too pale and her hair was a mess from being pulled out of her hair tie in the struggle. He shook her roughly and she felt her teeth rattle together.

"You get bit?" he asked. His voice was harsh and urgent. Lyla opened her mouth but words seemed to fail her. He shook her again, "Dammit Lyla tell me woman! Did it get ya?"

Her eyes snapped to his and she shook her head frantically then sprung forward. Daryl let out a breath hard as her body hit his chest and her thin arms wrapped around his torso. She was shaking a little but apart from that she seemed fine to Daryl. He knew she was strong. He'd only seen her cry a handful of times and that was something he was thankful for. He wrapped his arm around her upper back and pushed her against him harder; he didn't care that she was covered in gore.

"Yer fine yank," he mumbled against her messy hair. It was strange that she had been the one comforting him a few hours ago and now their roles were reversed.

"I know," said Lyla against his hard chest, "I'm just a little shaken up. That's the closest I've ever come to…to…well you know what I mean."

Daryl nodded and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a sobbing Carol. He made a noise of protest as she extracted Lyla from his arms and pulled his girlfriend into her own. Lyla stood there stiffly as the woman sobbed and squeezed her.

"Carol what…" she started. She didn't know what was going on. She lifted her wide, green eyes to look at Daryl with a bewildered expression. He smirked a little before nodding to Sophia, who was standing with one hand grasped in her mother's shirt. Understanding came over Lyla's face and she hugged the crying woman back tightly.

"Thank you… thank you so much," wailed Carol, "My baby would be dead if it weren't for you. I don't know how to thank you!"

Lyla patted her back in a comforting manner.

"It's ok Carol she's fine now. Really I only did what anyone else would have done in that position."

Carol continued to cry into her shoulder but thankfully Lori came over and gently led her away to the RV. Lyla watched them go and took in the rest of the camp. Her heart dropped when she saw Andrea leaning over Amy's body. She had really like the young blonde. The rest of the surviving campers were beginning to clear out the dead; zombies and people alike. She reached out blindly behind her, not taking her eyes off of the scene, and was rewarded when she felt Daryl's hand grasp hers tightly. He moved to stand beside her and they both watched everything for a moment.

"I gotta go help the other men take care of the bodies," he said softly. Lyla nodded without removing her gaze from Andrea and Amy.

"I'll help."

"No."

She turned her head to look at Daryl in surprise. He still wasn't looking at her.

Now that the adrenaline from the attack had worn off, she could see that something was bothering him. She didn't have to guess to know that his thoughts had turned to his brother once again now that they weren't in immediate danger.

'Daryl, what happened to Merle…"

He cut her off.

"Go with Lori and the kids down ta the water ta get cleaned up. Then go get some rest in the tent."

Lyla nodded and stroked his arm. She knew she was too tired to be much help moving bodies anyway. Daryl sighed and finally looked at her.

"Ah'll come when we finish up here."

He stalked off before she could say anything back. She stared after him. Something specific was bothering him about Merle's disappearance; something more than the fact that he was injured. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. There would be time later to talk to Daryl about it, so she pushed the thought from her head and headed in the direction of Lori.

* * *

Lyla was lying on her back with her knees bent up and her arms crossed over her chest. She had washed herself off in the quarry and pulled on a clean pair of underwear from the shopping bag as well as another one of Daryl's sleeveless button ups. She was exhausted but sleep just wouldn't come. The zipper to the entrance was suddenly yanked down and she watched from her spot in the blankets as Daryl stepped into the tent. His hair was damp and she could see that he must have washed himself up right before coming here. He didn't say anything to her as he kicked off his boots and practically face planted into the mound of blankets next to her. He was silent for a moment then he turned his face towards her.

"Ya sleep at all," he asked quietly. His eyes were half closed and the bright blue was barely visible beneath his dark lashes. She shook her head as she began to trace her fingers along the hard muscles in his arm.

"Jim's bit," he muttered. Her eyes shot open and she coughed.

"What!" she exclaimed, "What is everyone doing about it?"

"Ah wanted to put a pick-axe through his skull right away, but those idiots wouldn't let me."

Lyla gaped at the nonchalant way he spoke of killing the friendly mechanic.

"Daryl," she said slowly, "You can't just kill a man."

"He ain't gunna be a man fer much longer," he mumbled into the pillow.

"Yes but he's alive right now," she said exasperatedly, "Feel free to hammer his head in once the fever kills him but don't make the last thing he sees you charging at him with an axe raised high."

Daryl huffed and closed his eyes.

"We're movin' out and headed fer the CDC in the morning."

"I think that's a good plan," nodded Lyla after a moment. She saw a torn look cross his face, "What? You don't? They could have supplies and information."

Daryl shook his head, messing up his damp hair, from its place on the pillow.

"It ain't that," he muttered with his eyes still closed.

"Then what…" realization suddenly hit her, "You don't want to leave because of Merle."

He didn't say anything but Lyla knew she was right. Her hand continued its path up and down his arm.

"Merle's the best damn tracker in Georgia next to you," she said softly, "And we can leave a note just in case. He'll know how to find us."

The muscles under Lyla's hand tensed and Daryl's voice suddenly cut through the air loud and hoarse.

"Ah wouldn't have ta fuckin' worry 'bout that if he hadn't left in the first place!"

His breathing was becoming erratic and his eyes were still shut tightly. Lyla scooted down so there heads were even and rolled onto her side to face him. She took her hand off of his arm and placed the tips of her fingertips on the soft skin just under his eye.

"Is that what's bothering you?" she asked in a whisper as her fingers ghosted over his skin and into the soft hair on the side of his head, "The fact that he left didn't come back to camp makes it feel like he abandoned you just like when you were young doesn't it?"

His eyes snapped open and he tried to pull his head away from her but she kept her hand in his hair and wouldn't let him. A look of pain and fear shot across his face.

"Stop," she chided gently, "Don't push me out like that."

He lowered his head back to the pillow but was watching her warily. She resumed the movement of her fingers through his hair.

"That's why you reacted like that on the roof before wasn't it? It felt like he was leaving you alone all over again."

A shudder ran through Daryl's body and he swallowed before speaking.

"Ah-Ah don't know what happened," he said in an ashamed voice, "All of a sudden Ah just couldn't breath and Ah just kept seeing his hand jus' lying there and-and…"

Lyla shushed him. His voice had become more and more desperate, like he was pleading with her to understand. She trailed her fingers down to his jaw and she traced its strong outline with her thumb.

"It's okay," she said calmly as she stared into his blue eyes, "You don't have to explain anything to me, I get it."

He bit his lip unsurely as he held her gaze.

"He was high of his ass though," she reasoned, "You have to remember that any decision he made was impaired tremendously. I know once he sobers up he'll hightail it back here. Then he'll pick up our trail and come racing after us."

That seemed to finally resolve Daryl's troubled thoughts and the turmoil in his eyes disappeared. He grabbed the hand she had on his face and brought it to his mouth.

"Ah guess yer right," he mumbled against it.

"When aren't I?" she joked. She saw him smirk.

"How 'bout the time ya thought it'd be a good idea to use bacon on a bait line?" he challenged, "Or when ya decided to wake Merle up and nearly got a knife to yer face. Or when-"

"Ok ok I get it!" she exclaimed as she slapped a hand over his grinning mouth, "And lickin' ma hand won't make me move it."

He glared playfully at her as she repeated his words from that morning in an awful impression of his accent. He removed her hand gently from his mouth and then pulled her towards him. He laid one arm over her waist and put the other behind her head so she could use his bicep as a pillow. She snuggled into his chest.

"I miss him," whispered Daryl honestly.

Lyla smiled sadly against the rough fabric of his shirt.

"I know. I do too."

They both drifted off into sleep.

**AN: Thanks so much for reading! I know some of you said you wanted them to get to Merle in time, but I felt like that was just too big of a change to make to the story line. Don't worry though I already have a plan for his reappearance! Also sorry for not putting in the scene with the vatos, I don't know why but I just never liked that whole part in the plot.**


	6. Drunken Dinners and Hot Showers

**Disclaimer: I do not own the walking dead or any of its parts.**

**AN: Hi everyone! First of all, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, they were all so nice and helpful. I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this chapter, I just got back to university so I was really busy but now that I'm settled I will get stuff out quicker. THanks again for your reviews!**

Lyla frowned as she stared at Jim leaning against the tree through the pick up truck's passenger side window. She continued to stare at the sick man until Daryl slowly pulled away to follow the caravan of cars. They had packed everything up this morning and set off on the long trip to the CDC. Deciding to leave Jim had certainly dampened everyone's spirits, even Lyla, who had only known him for less than two days. He was always kind and friendly to everyone in the camp, and that just made it even harder to let him die his way.

Lyla huffed as yet another bead of sweat ran down her chest and she rolled the window down all the way. It didn't help much but at least there was a breeze. She could see Daryl smirking at her out of the corner of her eye.

"What?" she said grumpily as she readjusted her sweaty cut off shorts for what felt like the hundredth time. Daryl just grinned at her and shook his head, brushing off her question. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah whatever Dixon, I'm sorry I'm not used to this southern heat like you are."

He raised one eyebrow and gave her a skeptical look. He had one arm draped casually over the steering wheel and the other was resting on the back of the bench.

"Ya moved to Georgia over five years ago _Kaiser_."

"Yeah but I spent the four years before that in New Hampshire!" she whined. Daryl chuckled at her as she pouted like a child, "There's snow there for practically nine months out of the year. How many times have you actually seen snow Daryl?"

He raised his hand to scratch absentmindedly at his cheek. He was going to need to shave again soon.

"Dunno," he said, "Ah guess just that time in New York. Wish we got some snow down here though. It'd probably slow the hell outta the damn walkers."

Lyla scrunched her freckled ski-slope nose up in confusion. She could look so fucking adorable sometimes. Daryl shook his head to clear his thoughts as he heard her speak again.

"Hmm maybe it would. That would make sense biologically," she reasoned, "They probably wouldn't feel anything but they would still freeze. I'd imagine it's a lot harder to deal with the walking dead than the popsicled dead."

Daryl turned and raised both his eyebrows at her now. She was grinning widely back at him waiting for him to respond to her intentionally corny joke.

"Ah ain't even gunna give a response ta that quip yankee."

She laughed loudly and threw her head back. Daryl stared at the smooth column of neck that her movement had revealed as he felt his face grow hot. Because of the whole Merle incident and the feelings it dredged up, they hadn't done anything more than hold each other close last night in the tent. Now that Lyla had helped him reach some form of resolution with the matter, his head was clearer and he became painfully aware of the intense feeling growing in his gut. He watched a bead of sweat roll down her neck and into the cleavage exposed by the thin blue tank top. He licked his lips and coughed before forcing his gaze back to the road. He'd feel pretty stupid if he died in a car crash because he couldn't stop staring at his girlfriend's boobs. That'd be pretty anticlimactic with the whole zombie thing happening.

Lyla's laughter died down and they drove in completely comfortable silence for a few minutes before she started up her grumbling about the heat again. She fidgeted with her shirt for a few moments then Daryl heard her mutter, "fuck this". She stripped off her shirt and flung it onto the floor. Daryl choked and stared at her bare chest with wide eyes.

"The fuck do ya think yer doin' Lyla!" he exclaimed, "And when did ya stop wearing bras all ova sudden!"

Lyla giggled at his bewildered expression and lifted her legs to the dashboard. His eyes moved to her long legs as he began to chew on his thumbnail, then they slid back to her chest. Lyla giggled again.

"Well," she started. She made a big show of pushing her chest up to crack her back, "I'm too fucking hot and it's not like we've got anyone else riding with us dummy. You've seen it all before so forgive me if I don't give a shit about whipping them out in front of you. And I never liked wearing bras anyway; they're way too constricting. This whole apocalypse thing has just given me an excuse to go with out them."

Daryl continued to chew on his thumb as his eyes shifted between her and the road rapidly.

"Oh yeah," he said then cleared his throat, "And what excuse would that be?"

"Time management," she said with a serious tone and a nod of her head. She gently pried his hand away from his mouth and turned it over in her hand so she could draw patterns on his palm. She felt a shudder run through his body and she grinned, "I can't have you fumbling around to get a damn bra off when we could be attacked any second now could I?"

"Smart-ass," he muttered. He audibly groaned when Lyla suddenly scooted along the bench to his side and pressed the hand she had been holding to one of her breasts. She smirked as a bulge started to appear in the front of his pants. Daryl tried to glare at her, but he knew it was lousy and half-hearted.

"Come on darlin', don't tempt me with this now," he practically begged, "That's just mean."

"I'm not tempting you with anything," she said as she let go of his hand and moved her own to his belt buckle, "I'll do all the work, you just focus on driving."

Daryl gulped as Lyla undid his buckle and the button on his jeans. He let out a reluctant chuckle and brought his hand to the back of her neck.

"I just want ya to know," he said slowly as his thumb stroked along the soft skin under her chin, "If Ah crash this car its yer fuckin' fault."

Lyla slowly pulled down his zipper and freed him from his boxers. Then she looked up at him from under her eyelashes and grinned sinfully.

"Well at least we'll both die happy."

Daryl barely suppressed a gasp as she took him into her hot, wet mouth. She held onto him at his base gently as she began to move her mouth up and down his shaft. His fingers went to her silky, caramel hair and gripped tightly as her tongue swirled around his tip. He was using every ounce of self-control he had not to lose himself in pleasure and crash into the RV twenty feet in front of the truck. He thought he was doing pretty fucking well for it being his first blowjob in months, then he felt his muscles spasm and the pickup shot forward a few feet as his foot twitched on the gas pedal. He let out a strangled sigh and felt Lyla smile against him as she continued to suck and lick her way up and down. She continued for about another minute before she felt him tense up.

"Fuck," he breathed out through his teeth, "Pull off or Ah'm cumming in yer mouth darlin'."

She shifted her mouth farther up on his cock but made no move to take it off.

"Alright then," he said hoarsely as a spasm rocked his body, "Fuck! Grab the fuckin' wheel Lyla!"

She obliged as both his hands went to her long hair and he emptied himself into her mouth. She kept the wheel steady and waited for him to finish. Then she swallowed and sat up smiling victoriously. After looking out the windshield to make sure they were doing ok, she turned to look at her boyfriend. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily as his hands gripped the edge of the seat loosely. Lyla gave herself a mental pat on the back then tucked him back into his boxers one-handed.

"Ah got the rest," mumbled Daryl lowly. Lyla let him take care of that while she kept her hand on the steering wheel. She jumped slightly as his warm hand touched her shoulder and he drew her to him tightly. His hand replaced hers on the steering wheel and she wrapped her arms around his waist. He shifted a bit so she could rest her head on his chest and he draped his arm lazily around her shoulder. He pressed a rough kiss to her forehead.

"Fuckin' love ya."

Lyla smiled and looked up at him.

"I know," she said impishly, "You'd be crazy not to after that."

He chuckled and she felt it deep in his chest. His hand was trailing up and down her smooth shoulder.

"Damn straight," he snorted, "Ah feel like Ah'm in fuckin' high school again. Gettin' road head in ma truck."

"I better be the last girl you get it from in this truck," she joked sleepily as she yawned against his chest. Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Yer the only girl Ah've been gettin' it from fer almost six years. Don't see that changin' now."

"Good," she whispered as her green eyes started to drift closed.

* * *

Lyla started as Daryl shook her gently.

"C'mon darlin'," she heard him grumble, "We're 'bout to get to the CDC."

Lyla moaned and pushed her face into his chest. She heard him chuckle then felt his hand muss up her long hair aggressively. She sat up quickly and made a noise of protest.

"Rise an' shine," he said far more loudly than she liked in her current state of sleepiness.

She glared at him while she tried to fix her mess of hair and pull her shirt back on.

"I hate you some times Dixon."

Daryl raised one of his eyebrows lazily before turning to stare at the road again.

"Nah, you don't," he said smugly. Lyla huffed but didn't say anything to correct him. They both knew she could never hate him. Sure she sometimes contemplated murdering him when he refused to take care of himself or came home from a hunt covered in blood, but she never hated him. She was stirred from her thoughts as the CDC building appeared in front of them. Daryl put the truck in park and cut the engine.

"Shit…" he whispered as they both stared at the masses of bodies that littered the ground outside of the huge building. They were transfixed by the carnage that covered the area. Daryl ran a large hand over his tan face and sighed. He turned to Lyla.

"Now listen," he said seriously. His blue eyes were staring intently into her green ones, "If things go down badly here Ah want ya to be ready to leave in a moment alright? And if yer not ready Ah'm gunna grab ya anyway and get the fuck outta there."

Lyla nodded hurriedly and moved forward to press a hasty kiss on his mouth. Daryl moved his hand to the back of her head and held her there for a moment. Then he broke away and opened the door on his side.

"Let's go," he said gruffly, "And keep yer guns on ya whatever ya do."

He got out of the truck and closed the door. Lyla grabbed her bag of clothes from the floor and copied his action. She got out of the truck and met him at the tailback where he handed her the shotguns and shouldered his crossbow. Once they had gotten all of their things together, he grabbed her hand then pulled her towards the others, who were starting to make their way to the closed doors.

Glenn met up with them about halfway to the doors.

"Hey guys," he said as he walked along side of them.

Lyla smiled and returned his greeting. Daryl just nodded.

"So uh," Glenn continued awkwardly, "How was your ride? Enjoyable?"

The couple stared at him in confusion as his gaze focused pointedly on Daryl's crotch and he coughed. Daryl narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

"The fuck are ya starin' at-" but his voice cut off as he looked down to where Glenn was so obviously staring. The button on his jeans and the zipper were both undone.

He cursed and quickly dropped Lyla's hand to fix the situation. Lyla and Glenn both tried to hide their laughter. When Daryl finished and looked up his face was slightly pink. He glared harshly at the two of them laughing with his bright blue eyes.

"Shut up," he growled menacingly. Glenn immediately quieted but Lyla just smirked, "And this is yer damn fault woman," he said while pointing a finger accusingly at his girlfriend, "Propositionin' me when Ah'm drivin', distractin' me and all…"

Lyla rolled her eyes and put her hands on her chest in mock sincerity.

"I deeply apologize for pleasuring you."

Daryl gaped at her with wide eyes and spluttered. Glenn couldn't help it and he burst out laughing. The next moment he found himself on the ground after Daryl reached around Lyla to shove him with one muscled arm.

"Not a fuckin' word Chinaman!" Daryl said threateningly as Glenn stood up quickly. They were almost at the doors now and the others were giving the three questioning looks. Glenn held up his hands in surrender to the angry redneck and scurried over to the group for protection. Lyla giggled but quickly stopped as soon as the others began pounding on the closed doors in panic. The mood had changed so quickly. She felt her body fill with dread. Dread that they had come all this way for nothing. She vaguely heard Daryl and Rick shouting and then Daryl's strong arm was around her waist and hauling her closer to the building. He pulled his crossbow off his shoulder and she was confused for a moment, but then she turned and saw the walkers coming towards them. Rick was still shouting and pounding on the doors. Daryl shot off a bolt and was shouting her name. She felt herself panic and tense up as she tried to take in everything that was happening around her. She lifted one of her shotguns and shot the walker closest to her. She shot two more then suddenly the doors were opening and light was spilling out of the entrance. The others rushed in and Lyla grabbed Daryl, who was still shooting down walkers, and yanked him into the entryway with her.

* * *

After Doctor Jenner had taken samples of all of their blood, the group found themselves in the building's cafeteria. Their jaws practically dropped when they saw all of the food that the shelves and the fridge contained.

"Oh my god," whispered T-dog, "Something that isn't squirrel."

Lyla laughed as Daryl flipped the large man off.

"Didn't hear yer ass complainin' when it was keepin' ya alive," he muttered while rubbing a hand across his stubble lined jaw. T-dog's eyes widened slightly.

"No man!" he stammered, "I didn't mean it like that! It's just-just look! They have lucky charms dude!"

Daryl stared at him in bewilderment as the slightly older man grabbed the box of sugary cereal and nearly squealed in glee.

"Fuckin' weirdo," he muttered. He lifted his hand and started chewing on his thumbnail but Lyla quickly grabbed it and stopped him. He glared at his girlfriend but she just smiled widely with her straight, white teeth in response. Her nap in the car had apparently been very beneficial because she was looking much better than she had that morning. She had gotten some color back and her green eyes were clear as she smiled at him in happiness.

The other women had already begun to pull things out of the drawers and fridges. It looked like they were preparing for a feast.

"Feel free to take anything," called Jenner from the doorway, "It's going to go bad soon anyway. Oh and there's all sorts of alcohol in that cabinet over there."

Daryl and Lyla stared at each other for a moment before they both bolted over to the cabinet that Jenner had pointed at. After a moment of shoving each other, Lyla finally gave up with a huff. Daryl smiled in triumph before opening the cabinet and moaning at what he saw. He looked back at Lyla and grinned slyly. She crossed her arms and raised one light brown eyebrow.

"What Daryl?" she asked with slight trepidation. His grin only got wider.

"Looks like we're getting' good and wasted tonight darlin'," he said smugly as he handed her a large bottle from the cabinet. Lyla took it automatically and looked down. It was Jameson, her favorite. She grinned now too with excitement. She reached up and knotted her hand in the dirty blonde hair on the back of Daryl's neck and pulled his head down for a brief, messy kiss.

"I've never loved you more," she said with a smirk. He laughed and hooked a finger in one of her belt loops to pull her closer. He fully intended to return the favor for what she had done in the car, and there were plenty of rooms here to use. Even hot showers. Lyla saw his eyes darken as they stared at her and she felt her core begin to heat up. She put the hand that wasn't holding the whiskey on his side as he lowered his head. Suddenly a loud cough made both their heads snap up. Rick was staring at them with an amused expression.

"We grouped a bunch of the tables together and Lori and Carol put out a bunch of the food they found," he said. Lyla looked past him and saw that the other members of the group were bunched around a long row of tables near the door. Rick cleared his throat and continued to talk.

"Is there anything else in there?" he asked while gesturing to the cabinet behind them. Daryl, who was still slightly red from being interrupted in that position, nodded and turned to the cabinet once more. He handed a few bottles of wine to Rick and took a bottle of Southern Comfort for himself. Rick smiled and thanked him before heading back towards the others. Daryl moved to follow but Lyla pulled him back by his hand and reached up to whisper in his ear.

"After we get completely and utterly trashed, you and me are going to take one long ass shower."

She kissed his cheek, pulled away and turned to walk towards the table. She made it a few steps before she felt him slap her ass. It didn't hurt but it made her yelp in surprise and everyone around the table turned to look at her as she moved her hands to cover her butt. She blushed and mumbled an apology. She turned to shoot a glare at Daryl and saw him laughing with his hands held up in the air. He strolled by her casually and sat down in an empty seat with his bottle of Southern Comfort. Everyone around the table had gone back to their conversations and the bottles of wine were open and being passed around.

Lyle opened her bottle of whiskey and took a large swig. She nearly moaned in pleasure as the fiery, sweet liquid burned a path down her throat. She took another then made her way to the table. There were no empty seats anywhere so she plopped down on Daryl's lap. She was sitting sideways across his lap so she steadied herself by propping an elbow on his muscular shoulder. Daryl raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

"I'm not sitting on the floor," she stated, leaving no room for an argument. He rolled his blue eyes and wrapped one arm around her back to hold her in place. Lyla smiled at his willingness to show affection in the company of the others. He usually was very reserved in public. She raised her bottle and clinked it with his before taking a sip. He chuckled and did the same.

"Aww," cooed Shane, "Aren't you both adorable."

Lyla raised her bottle to him as Daryl muttered a quick "fuck off".

The group chuckled and Daryl glared at everyone. He was annoyed that they apparently weren't as scared of him anymore now that Lyla was here.

"So Lyla," Shane continued when everyone's laughter ceased, "Exactly what type of doctor were you training to be."

Lyla leaned back against Daryl slightly and swallowed.

"After I got my MD I was planning to specialize in general surgery."

Shane's raised his eyebrows as the others followed the conversation with rapt attention.

"Surgery? Have you every actually performed any?" he asked.

"Well I wouldn't have been certified for another couple of years, but I know how to do most of the basic surgeries just from shadowing that surgeon I was telling you about the other day. I've even performed some simple ones myself, with guidance of course, well except for one."

"No offense, but why would a hospital surgeon let an uncertified doctor perform a procedure?" asked Rick in disbelief, "They don't normally do that."

Daryl groaned and leaned his head back. The group, except for Lyla, looked at him in confusion. Lyla smiled and patted his broad chest.

"It wasn't at the hospital and it wasn't on one of their patients. It was on Daryl."

"What?" gasped Lori with an incredulous look, "Why weren't you in a hospital?"

"You didn't let her, like, practice on you or anything right dude?" asked Glenn somewhat warily, "I mean some guys are really whipped but…"

Daryl lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

"Ah didn't have a choice!" he grunted while pulling at his hair, "And Ah ain't fuckin' whipped!"

He took a swig out of his bottle and stared at the floor grumpily. Lyla smirked at him before addressing the group.

"He isn't lying. The hospital wasn't an option and something needed to be done fast."

"Where were you and what happened?" asked Carol while shaking her head in confusion. Daryl grumbled something that only Lyla could hear and she giggled. She swatted the back of his head gently and then realized that Carol was talking to her.

"Oh, sorry," she said sheepishly. She ran a hand through her caramel colored hair and let out a breath, "Well this idiot here," she said with a nudge to the still grumbling Daryl, "Dragged me out hunting and decided to not tell me about the pains he was having in his stomach. We get about six miles into the woods and he suddenly collapses. I'd seen dozens of inflamed appendix procedures in the hospital so I knew what I was dealing with and luckily I always insisted on bringing a well-equipped first-aid kit when we went out into the woods. The bad part though was that I didn't have anything to knock him out, just some painkillers and Novocain."

"You were awake while she took your appendix out? In the middle of the woods?" gaped Andrea. Her eyes were almost comically wide. Daryl lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his head.

"Yeah, but not really," he said. Andrea, as well as the others looked confused.

"He was pretty out of it," explained Lyla, "I pumped him full of almost everything I had. Didn't even notice when I cut open his side with a pocket knife."

She grimaced and some of the others looked horrified. Glenn gagged a little into his glass of wine.

"Sure as fuck noticed when ya cut the damn thing outta me," grumbled Daryl. Lyla shivered and grabbed his shoulder with her hand.

"Ugh, that was awful. The one moment of clarity his brain had during the whole thing was when I cut the appendix out of him. He kind of freaked out when he saw me holding one of his organs in my hands and he tried to stand up."

Daryl threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Didn't know what the fuck was goin' on! Ah just look up and yer fuckin' whole hand is inside me, then yer pulling out a kidney lookin' thing!"

Lyla shook her head with a small frown on her face.

"He screamed and it scared me because I thought he was all but passed out so I screamed, then he tried to stand up with a gaping hole in his side. He wasn't successful to say the least and he passed out from blood loss after that. It was scary but at least I could stitch up my patient without him squirming everywhere."

Daryl scoffed and rubbed the back of his neck. The others looked to be torn between horror and amusement.

"How did you get him out of the woods?" asked Carl, "He's really big and you're really skinny."

Lyla shrugged.

"I didn't," she said with a giggle, "I finally reached Merle on one of the walkies and he came to haul his brother's ass back. Got him to a hospital a few hours later and put him on a shit ton of antibiotics. The head surgeon said I did a fantastic job for having almost no proper medical equipment."

The group laughed and shook their heads. Even Daryl chuckled a little. The alcohol was clearly taking an affect on everyone already.

"You have the most insane stories Lyla," said Rick with a chuckle. Lyla smiled and raised her bottle to him.

"Thank Daryl," she replied while ruffling her boyfriend's too-long hair. He shoved her hand off and she glared playfully at him, "I never had any fun stories until I started hanging around with him. And mine are nothing compared to the ones he has."

Daryl rolled his eyes and took a swig from his bottle.

"That I believe," said Andrea and the others nodded. The conversation lulled while everyone piled food onto their plates and dug in. Lyla filled a plate with an enormous amount of food for herself and Daryl to share. She rested it on her legs and the two attacked it with fervor. They were on their third shared plate when they noticed the others staring at them in disgust.

"How do you both eat so fucking much?" asked T-dog with a look of awe on his tan face, "I must have at least fifty pounds on both of y'all and the amount of food you just shoveled down would have me barfing within the hour. Not to mention how much weight I would gain."

"Good genes," mumbled Daryl sarcastically around a mouthful of chicken and rice. Lyla wrinkled her nose in disgust at his full mouth and pushed his jaw closed. Daryl snorted and then made a big show of swallowing his mouthful. Lori and Carol hid their smiles behind their hands. Despite being surly and temperamental most of the time, Daryl Dixon made up one half of an adorable couple. Who would have thought?

The group continued to eat and drink as stories from their old lives were thrown around. They all laughed when Carl rejected the wine and Daryl ordered Glenn to keep drinking. Everyone kept drinking steadily and within the hour everyone was good and drunk. The kids had been put to bed against their will and now only the adults remained in the cafeteria.

Lyla was still on Daryl's lap but now she was half leaning on the table and in a serious drunken debate with Glenn. Daryl kept his arm draped over her legs to steady her as he continued to drink from the bottle of whiskey in his other hand.

"No Glenn! I'm telling you he has it! Look I'll show you," said Lyla while waving her hands exaggeratedly. She leaned back and grabbed Daryl's forearm. He groaned as she slammed it onto the metal table and pointed at the red tattoo ink on the underside of his arm.

"Look!" Lyla exclaimed excitedly, still pointing at the tattoo, "That's my name! L-Y-L-A. Lyla!"

Daryl yanked his arm back and rubbed his aching elbow. Lyla smiled with triumph at Glenn, who was drunkenly laughing.

"Alrigh'," he slurred, "I believe you."

Shane chose to chime in on the conversation at that point. He had a mischievous grin on his face.

"If Daryl's got your name tattooed on his arm, where've you got his name tattooed on you?"

Lyla turned red and mumbled something as Daryl burst out laughing loudly.

"Daryl…" she said in a warning tone. He ignored her.

"Where's she got ma name?" he said through his laughter. The alcohol had made him more outgoing in the conversation, "Ah'll tell ya where. She's got ma name tattooed smack in the middle of her right-"

Lyla lunged forward and slapped both of her hands over his mouth before he could finish his sentence. Her intoxicate mind had misjudged the distance to his mouth and her momentum sent the chair they were on toppling over. The cafeteria filled with raucous laughter as the others watched the two fall over and simultaneously realized that Daryl had just implied that Lyla had his name tattooed on her ass. Daryl groaned as Lyla's elbow landed directly in his crotch. He rolled away, covering the area with both of his hands. T-dog was banging the table with both hands as he drunkenly laughed, and Rick was gripping Lori's shoulder to keep himself up. Lyla sat up and ran her hands through her hand in distress.

"Oh god," she said while hiccupping and giggling, "I'm so sorry babe, I didn't mean to."

Daryl grumbled something and raised a hand to flip her off without turning back over to face her. Lyla just giggled harder at this. She scooted along the floor and pressed his shoulders down so he rolled onto his back. His bloodshot blue eyes were glaring at her from under the ends of his dirty blonde hair. His hands were still covering his crotch protectively. Lyla smirked at him with her hands still on his broad shoulders.

"That's what you get for telling them where my tattoo is."

Daryl huffed and slowly sat up.

"Didn't even lemme fuckin' finish yankee."

Lyla just smiled and threw her thin arms around his neck, knocking them both back onto the floor. Daryl was stiff underneath her for a moment before she felt his hands wrap around her waist. She smiled into his neck.

"You smell," she giggled. Daryl pulled her against him tighter.

"Let's go take that shower then," he mumbled into her hair, "Ya can make up fer hittin' me square in the balls."

Lyla pulled out of his embrace and looked down at him underneath her. His eyes were dark with lust as he stared up at her. She smiled drunkenly and nodded before standing up shakily and offering him her hand. He grabbed it and pulled himself up. Lyla turned to say goodnight to the others but screamed suddenly as Daryl lifted her and slung her body over his shoulder. Daryl stumbled for a second and Lyla giggled as she hung upside down on his muscular back. She waved to the group as Daryl started to make his way to the door.

"Where y'all going!" shouted Rick with a drunken smile on his face.

"We're going to get wet and naked together!" replied Lyla in a singsong voice. She laughed at herself and then shrieked as Daryl swatted at her ass and kicked open the door. The couple disappeared through it while the others laughed at their retreating forms. Lori shook her head fondly.

"Those two are crazy together," she said. The others nodded in agreement, "But seriously I don't think I've ever seen two people more obsessed with each other than they are. It's kind of adorable."

Andrea smirked.

"I still think that they would make some cute-ass babies."

Glenn looked horrified at her statement.

"Can you imagine a bunch of little Dixons running around?" he asked with a shudder. The others thought about it for a moment before cringing as well.

"We'd never get any rest," said Rick while shaking his head. The others laughed and their conversation drifted to other subjects.

* * *

Daryl laughed as he stumbled through the hallway with Lyla still hanging from his back. She hadn't stopped giggling since they left the cafeteria. He kept one strong arm around her long legs as he pushed open a door with the other. The room he walked into appeared to be a small office with a comfy looking couch in one corner and a desk in the other. There was another door directly across from him and he made his way towards it. He pushed it open and grinned when he saw that it was a bathroom. Lyla was silent now and she yanked sharply at the back of his belt.

"Daryl put me down," she whispered. He complied swiftly and put his hands on her shoulders to steady her swaying form. She raised her hands to his chest and looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Suddenly her lips were on his and her hands were in his hair. He put his hands on her narrow waist and pulled her hard against him. They stumbled toward the shower, messily discarding items of clothing as they went. Daryl fumbled for the shower dial and was rewarded a few seconds later when cold water cascaded over them. Lyla gasped at the temperature before giggling and pulling her shirt over her head. Her golden hair was already turning darker as the water soaked it thoroughly. Daryl kicked off his boxers and backed her into the wall as steam started to fill the room; the water was warming up.

Lyla moaned as she felt his mouth latch onto one of her nipples and his hands squeezed her waist tightly. She pulled his head up to hers and buried her head into his neck where she trailed a path of hard kisses down to his peck and then back up to his mouth. He kissed her deeply and wound his tongue around hers as he lifted one of her legs around his waist. She broke the kiss and stared into his eyes while laying one of her hands on his stubbly cheek. He met her gaze and lifted her other leg. She held onto him with her legs and her back pressed against the shower wall as his hands held onto her ass. They didn't break eye contact as he plunged into her and began to thrust. Daryl lowered his head and bit her shoulder as he moaned. Lyla gasped as he hit a spot deep within her and she threaded her hands through his wet hair.

They continued to move for a few minutes until they let each other's climaxes carry them over the edge. Daryl was panting into her shoulder as his muscles slowly relaxed. Lyla continued to run her fingers through his hair. He pulled his head up and made to pull out but she held him where he was.

"Let's just stay like this for a minute ok?" she whispered. He nodded and pressed his forehead to hers as they held each other for a few more moments. Lyla sighed as she felt Daryl slowly soften inside of her.

He slowly pulled his long length out and gently let her slide down the wall and unhook her legs from his waist. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a long kiss to the side of her head. The world was still spinning slightly from all the whiskey.

"I love ya Lyla," he breathed against her wet hair. She pulled back and stared at him. Water ran down her freckled nose and off of her plump lips. She smiled gently. He looked amazing to her, even half-covered in dirt and unshaven. She liked him for his roughness and he knew it.

"You know I love you too Daryl."

She pulled his head down for one more kiss before pulling out of his embrace and reaching for the soap. They helped each other wash all of the dirt and grime form their bodies that had accumulated over the last few days. Once they were both completely clean, Lyla let Daryl help her out of the shower and wrap a fluffy towel around her shoulders. He rubbed his soaking wet hair then wrapped his own towel around his lower half. Lyla giggled at his half dry half wet hair that was sticking out in all directions. He glared at her but didn't protest when she combed it back into place with her fingers.

"Your hair really is getting too long," she said as she continued to slide her fingers through it. Daryl sighed and closed his eyes at the comforting pressure. He hated to be touched, but when it came to Lyla he actually enjoyed the physical contact. He didn't tense up when she touched him. Instead her touch instantly made him feel relaxed and safe.

"Then cut it," he mumbled with his eyes still closed, "Ya know Ah don't care."

Lyla pressed her face into his broad chest and wrapped her arms around his middle. Her towel fell to the floor but she didn't care in the least. She felt his arms come around her shoulders and she sighed.

"Not right now," she said with a muffled giggle into him, "I'm too drunk. It would look like you stuck your head in a lawn mower."

Daryl chuckled and picked her up so her legs were wrapped around his waist once again. He walked out of the bathroom and laid down on the couch. He positioned them so that she was laying half on top of him and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch over both of their bodies. Lyla closed her eyes and kissed his chest before yawning. Daryl ran his hands through her wet hair as he felt her breathes deepen and she fell into sleep. He followed quickly behind her.

**Thanks for reading! Post any suggestions you have or things you want to see in the reviews. Next up there will be an awkward breakfast with lots of glances and Lyla and Daryl's house!**


	7. Hangovers and Explosions

**disclaimer: i do not own any part of the walking dead**

**AN: THANKS SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED OR READ! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! HERE IS CHAPTER 7!**

Lyla groaned as she awoke to Daryl shifting beneath her on the couch. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt like cotton. Daryl made a soft noise as he slept on and she lifted her head to look at him. He had one toned arm loosely wrapped around her waist and the other was thrown haphazardly over his eyes. Despite her hangover Lyla smiled as she took the sight of him in. His long hair was pointing in every which direction and his mouth was slightly open. She loved to look at him when he was sleeping; it was the only time he didn't look so troubled. She gently pulled his hand down from his eyes and wove her thin fingers through his larger ones. He moved his head slightly but didn't wake up. All of the whiskey must have knocked him out pretty well.

Lyla trailed her fingers through his shaggy hair and down his stubbly jaw line. She traced his goatee and the small mole on the corner of his mouth. She smirked when she saw the corner of his mouth turn up almost unperceivably. The breath left her as he suddenly rolled her over so he was on top of her and buried his head in her neck. She wrinkled her nose when his hair tickled it and she breathed in his piney scent. He sighed deeply and Lyla giggled as his hot breath washed over her skin. She immediately stopped when the pounding in her head started up again. Daryl pulled back and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Hungover?" he asked in a low, raspy voice. He brushed a chunk of her hair away from her face. Lyla groaned with her eyes shut.

"Ugh I love whiskey but it always destroys me," she muttered. Her green eyes opened slightly and saw Daryl smirking down at her.

"Yer too fuckin' small to drink as much as ya do," he snorted. Lyla looked indignant.

"Hey," she protested gently, "I'm not small; I'm 5'8". That's only like five inches shorter than you."

Daryl shook his head with a grin and ran his knuckles over one of her cheekbones. Lyla let out an involuntary sigh at his touch.

"And yer what?" he asked softly before kissing her nose, "A hundred and twenty sumthin' pounds? Ain't got nearly enough meat on yer bones ta be drinkin' Jameson all the time."

Lyla pushed him onto his side and cuddled into his front.

"I like it too much," she breathed into his bare chest, "I just have to deal with the hangovers. We can't all be immune to them like you."

Daryl chuckled.

"You'll learn. Ah'm just older and got more experience."

Lyla rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

"Whatever you say gramps."

She giggled and jumped off the couch as Daryl's hands grabbed for her. She immediately stumbled and held out a hand to steady herself on the desk. She didn't expect to be so sore from their activities last night, but then again Daryl did wake her up multiple times during the night.

"Y'alright?" Daryl called over to her as he propped himself up on one arm. The blanket was pooled around his waist and Lyla let her eyes fall on the strong muscles in his lower stomach. She gulped.

"Yeah," she whispered huskily, "Just a little sore. Good sore though."

Daryl smirked and ran both hands through his messy hair.

"Yer sore and yer calling me gramps darlin'?"

Lyla straightened and put her hands on her hips. She shook her long hair away from her chest so he got the full view of her body.

"Well come on then," she challenged with a gleam in her green eyes, "Show me how young and fit you are Mr. Dixon."

She gave him a wicked smile as she backed into the bathroom. Daryl huffed out a laugh before darting in after her.

* * *

The quarry survivors, save a certain couple, were bustling around the kitchen preparing breakfast and chatting. Certain members, like Glenn and Rick, were groaning and looking a little green. T-dog laughed at them as he spooned eggs onto their respective plates.

"Remind me to never drink again," moaned Glenn into his hands. Lori smiled sympathetically and patted his shoulder as she walked by.

"Just be thankful you didn't drink as much as Lyla or Daryl," she said with a grin, "I'm sure they were regretting the amount they drank all night."

T-dog chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said with a laugh. The others looked at him in confusion before he continued, "I slept in the room next to them and let me just say that the walls here ain't too thick, especially the ones in the bathroom. I didn't get much sleep."

Sophia and Carl looked confused but the adults all chuckled in understanding. They halted their laughter when the said couple walked through the door to the cafeteria. Daryl looked remarkably clean in a fresh set of clothes and hair that was still wet from the shower. He looked well rested and he was even grinning as he said something to Lyla and she groaned in response. She too had wet hair (A fact the adults didn't miss), but she looked like the alcohol had affected her more than her boyfriend. She was clothed in a clean black tank top and some colorful Nike running shorts that were too short for her long legs. Her caramel hair was loosely braided down one side.

Daryl pulled her by her hand over to one of the chairs then pushed her into it softly. She rested her head on the table as Daryl made his way over to the food on the counter.

"Rough morning Lyla?" asked Dale kindly as the others traded glances and smirks. Lyla sighed and copied Glenn's position.

"I was pretty good before," she muttered, "But the hangover's creeping up on me I guess."

Dale nodded in understanding and patted her hand comfortingly. Lyla offered him a smile of thanks and closed her eyes again. She opened them a few minutes later when she felt something nudge her foot. Daryl was sitting down in the seat beside her with a plate and two mugs. He extended one towards her and the smell of fresh coffee wafted into her nose.

"Marry me," she moaned as she took the cup from him and downed a large gulp of the steaming liquid. It nearly burnt her throat but she didn't care in the least. Daryl smirked and moved his chair closer to hers. He slid the plate across the table so that it was between them. Lyla moaned again when she saw what was on it. It was a blueberry pancake piled high with eggs and bacon, all slathered in syrup and butter. It was her signature hangover meal. The others watched in disgust as she folded the pancake in half and proceeded to eat it happily like a strange burrito.

"Eat it all," ordered Daryl as he watched her eating vigorously, "Ya need the calories."

He chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically.

Glenn looked even greener now.

"How can you eat right now? Just watching you makes me want to puke," he said with a gag.

Lyla swallowed a big bite and took a breath before answering.

"The grease helps coat your stomach. Trust me it makes you feel a whole lot better, and Daryl's pretty good at making these."

"Ah should be," Daryl huffed, "Musta made damn near a thousand by now between you and Merle."

Lyla stuck her tongue out at him before turning back to the others.

"Daryl plays dad when we're hung over," she explained. Daryl scoffed and yanked on her braid.

"Ah wouldn't have to if y'all just controlled yer damn selves every once in a while!"

Lyla laughed and lifted her feet to rest in his lap.

"Don't be jealous that me and Merle get to have fun when you work late."

Daryl laughed and shook his head. He laid one large, calloused over her feet as she picked up her breakfast burrito again. She smiled at him widely and then took a huge bite.

"I can't believe that this has never come up before," began Rick as he looked towards the redneck, "But what did you do before all this Daryl?"

Rick was leaning towards him with an inquisitive look on his face. Daryl scratched the back of his neck and focused on a spot on the table.

"Construction," he mumbled, still not looking up.

Lyla's gaze snapped up to his and she gently kicked him with her foot. He still didn't look up so she sighed and spoke up.

"He's being modest," she huffed and received a glare from her boyfriend, "He worked with architects to help plan the structural layouts of buildings."

"Like Ah said, construction," grumbled Daryl. Lyla crossed her arms and leveled a hard stare at him.

"You know there's a big difference between what you do and what a construction worker does."

Daryl leaned back in the chair and raised both of his toned arms behind his head.

"S'all the same darlin'," he muttered in a bored tone. Rick's head swiveled between the two.

"What does your job require you to do then?" he asked in a pleasant but wary tone. He clearly didn't want to anger the volatile younger man.

"Dunno," said Daryl as he stared up at the ceiling, "Mostly math and stuff like that. Don't need a fancy vocabulary to understand numbers. All 'bout workin' out what fits where ya know."

"He helped me get through med school chemistry," said Lyla around a mouthful of eggs and pancakes. Daryl wrinkled his nose at her and she giggled. She was feeling better already just form the food and coffee. The green tinge was fading from her skin. She swallowed her last bite and took her feet off of Daryl's lap so she could move her chair next to his and lean into his side. He draped an arm around her shoulder loosely and tilted his head back on the chair. His hand played with the end of her long braid absentmindedly.

The other campers were still slightly shell shocked. They really did know almost nothing about Daryl's past. The fact that he could speak German was a shock in itself but now they also learned that his job was based in mathematics. There really was a lot more to him than any of them had thought. They furtively watched as Lyla whispered something in Daryl's ear and he grinned widely, showing off a set of straight, white teeth that they rarely got to see. Suddenly Carl spoke up.

"Hey Daryl, what's that on your neck?" he asked, "Did you get attacked?"

Everyone looked to the area where Carl was staring. Daryl had exposed more of his neck when he leaned his head back and the others saw a mottling of purple and blue marks covering a large portion of it. Lyla's hands flew up to her mouth as she giggled and the others broke out into laughter as well. Carl and Sophia looked confused once more, but Daryl also looked confused this time. He sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes at the laughing crowd.

"What?" he asked angrily. His eyes flew around dangerously until they met Lyla's beside him. She just shook her head wildly with her hands over her mouth. Daryl glared at her with his bright blue eyes, "Ya better tell me what the fuck's goin' or or Ah'll tell everyone what ya did when we drank absinthe that one time."

Lyla immediately paled and a terrified look came over her face. The others laughed as she quickly began speaking in German to Daryl under her breath.

"Lasst uns woanders hingehen, und ich verspreche, ich werde Ihnen sagen," (_Let's go somewhere else and I promise I'll tell you_) she said as she stood up and pulled him up by his hand. Daryl still looked suspicious but he muttered a quick "fine" and allowed his thin girlfriend to pull him out of the cafeteria. The others glanced around uncertainly at each other before they heard Daryl shout from the hallway.

"DAMMIT LYLA!"

Everyone was silent for a moment and then they broke out in hushed chuckles.

"Looks like someone's in trouble," giggled Carol. Lori smiled and shook her head.

"Somehow I don't think he'll be able to stay mad at her for long," she said and the others nodded in agreement. Dale sighed with a wistful look on his face.

"They remind me of my wife and I when we were younger."

Shane gaped at him.

"So Daryl Dixon reminds you of yourself?" he chuckled in disbelief. The others did too as they compared the two extremely different men in their heads. Dale chuckled as well.

"Well I wasn't nearly as angry and distant towards people," he said, "I just meant the way that him and Lyla act together."

"I understand," nodded Rick and the others. Everyone's attention snapped to the doorway as Doctor Jenner walked in.

* * *

Lyla felt frozen with fear and despair as she heard Daryl repeatedly swing the axe against the metal doors. They all knew his attempts were futile and the banging only seemed to remind them of their upcoming doom. She didn't want to die like this. She didn't want to die at all, not so soon after being reunited with Daryl. She heard the cries of Carol and Lori and felt her own tears begin to run down her face. She angrily swiped at them but they kept coming. She hated crying and could count the amount of times she cried in the last five years on one hand, but she couldn't seem to stop as the gravity of their situation sunk in. A loud sob suddenly tore form her throat violently and she felt T-dog lay a hand on her shoulder. Then Daryl was there and shoving off the other man's hand. She hadn't even realized that the metallic bangs of the axe against the door had stopped.

Daryl put his hands on her thighs and hoisted her up onto one of the many screen consoles. He stood in between her legs and drew her roughly against him. Lyla gasped out another strangled sob and clutched at the front of his shirt desperately. Daryl wrapped his arms around her more tightly and dropped his head to her shoulder. He shuddered as he felt her tears soak the skin on his neck. There was nothing he could say to make this any better and he didn't think that he could speak anyway. He just tried to pull her even closer to him as the clock counted down. He heard Rick yelling at the doctor but he couldn't find it in himself to care about anything other than the girl he was holding onto. She continued to cry unrestrainedly against his throat.

"I love you," she sobbed. He raised his head and stared into her wet, green eyes.

"Love ya too Lyla," he said hoarsely as he held a hand to the back of her neck, "So fuckin' much. Woulda fuckin' married ya if Ah knew the world was gunna go to shit so fast. Thought Ah had more time."

Lyla's eyes widened in surprise but before she could respond he pressed his lips to hers desperately and her mind went blank. She didn't know how long the kiss lasted before they heard someone shouting their names. Their heads both snapped towards the sound of what they recognized as Rick's voice. He was standing near the now opened entrance waving at them widely. He saw that he had gotten their attention and he disappeared through the door. Lyla let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Daryl grabbed her hand and sprinted towards Rick. They ran down the hallway and Daryl let go of her hand for a moment to grab their things from the small office. He reappeared almost instantly and grabbed her hand before starting to run once again.

They were almost to the stairs when Lyla suddenly yanked on his hand. He swung around with a wild look in his eyes.

"The fuck do ya think yer doing Lyla!" he screamed in confusion and panic. She darted into a room and he yelled again, "LYLA!"

She ran back out of the room carrying a bag of medical supplies.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly as she took his hand and began to move again, "I saw that room before and who knows when we'll come across supplies like these again."

Daryl grunted and ran faster. They were nearly at the top of the stairs when an ear-splitting boom came from the other side of the door. They looked at each other for a moment and then sprinted through the door. There was shattered glass everywhere and a large, gaping hole in one of the windows. The others were about twenty feet away from the building and running towards the cars. Daryl dragged her to the window and practically threw her out of it. He jumped through and pushed her forward as they avoided the stray walkers on the lawn. They were almost to the cars when Lyla heard everyone shouting her and Daryl's names. She looked around in confusion but quickly understood why they were shouting when Daryl pushed her roughly to the ground and laid his body protectively over hers.

She had thought the blast they had heard inside was loud, but this was a different level of sound entirely. She thought her eardrums were going to burst and she felt the explosion throughout her whole body. She laid perfectly still as wave after wave of heat crashed over them and she felt Daryl push her harder into the ground. After what felt like hours, the intense heat and the ground-quaking explosions finally stopped. Lyla let out a shaky breath that she hadn't known she was holding. She let out a slightly hysterical laugh as she realized that they had made it out and that they were safe. Andrea and Dale were lying on the ground about ten feet away from them and she smiled as she saw them get up shakily.

She laughed again and moved to get up, giving Daryl a slight push, but he didn't lift himself up. She tried again and he still didn't budge.

"Daryl, come on-" she started to say as she ran a hand down the back of his head. Her speech stopped when her hand encountered wetness in his hair. Her breath caught in her throat as she drew her hand back and saw that it was covered in red. Then she started to panic, "Daryl! DARYL!" she screamed. She couldn't see straight and she felt like she was going to throw up. Her hands were shaking violently and tears streamed down her face as her boyfriend continued to remain unresponsive to her screams. Suddenly Rick and Shane appeared in her line of vision and it took her a moment to comprehend their words.

"Lyla!" shouted Rick. Her gaze snapped to his as he continued in a calm voice, "Listen to me sweetheart, we need to get him into the RV so we can get out of here. There'll be a whole herd of walkers coming here because of the explosion. Do you understand?"

She nodded as tears continued to fall down her face. Between today and the day she was reunited with Daryl, she had cried more than she had in her entire life.

"Please," she choked out as she looked at Rick's kind face, "Please help him."

"That's what we're gunna do Lyla," he said soothingly. He nodded to Shane and the two men carefully lifted Daryl's limp body off of her. She immediately got to her feet and looked over her boyfriend's form. The back of his head was bleeding freely as well as numerous cuts on his back that she could see through his nearly destroyed shirt. She stifled another round of sobbing as she took in all the blood. She could feel her body trembling with fear, fear that Daryl wouldn't survive, and it paralyzed her.

"Come on Lyla!" Shane shouted at her as he and Rick continued to carry Daryl towards the RV, "He's gunna need your help right now girl!"

Lyla's head cleared somewhat. Shane was right, she was the only one who had the medical experience to help Daryl and she needed to pull herself together if she wanted to save him. She took a deep breath and grabbed the bag of medical supplies from the ground. She was really going to need it now. T-dog was standing off to the side and she tossed him the keys to Daryl's truck that she had taken from his duffle bag.

"Can you drive it?" she asked unsteadily.

T-dog nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, of course," he said as he began to gather up her and Daryl's other bags, "And I've got the rest of this stuff, you go on."

Lyla smiled weakly and headed off to the RV. She jumped in and quickly made her way to the bed in the bad. Shane and Rick were situating the still unconscious Daryl carefully on his stomach as to not disturb the wounds on his back and head. Lyla forced her mind into the professional mode she used at the hospital and began to rummage through the medical bag. She pulled out a pair of surgical scissors and knelt beside Daryl's body on the bad as she cut his ruined shirt off of him. His back was littered with cuts of varying lengths and deepness. She pushed the hair away from the back of his head to find the source of the bleeding. She found a long, thin cut near his hairline and breathed a sigh of relief; it was fairly superficial and shallow. Whatever debris had hit him must have knocked him out. He likely wouldn't stay unconscious for long and she needed to act fast. She thought hard for a minute then turned to address Rick.

"A lot of these cuts will need stitching and I can't do that in a moving car," she said with her voice full of authority, "We need to go to a safe place where I can fix him up."

Rick nodded but he looked uneasy.

"Listen Lyla, I don't know how long it will be until we can find a secure place and…"

Lyla cut him off.

"I know one," she said blankly, "Our house is in a town about forty minutes west of here. Daryl locked it up well before he got the hell out of there, I couldn't even get in when I went there without my keys, and we've got a fence around the perimeter that should keep most of the walkers out."

She rattled off the address and some directions to Rick.

"Alright, that sounds better than anywhere I can think of. What do you think Shane?"

The other cop nodded in agreement.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll relay the info to the other cars then lets get out of here."

He clapped a hand to Lyla's shoulder and gave her a tight-lipped smile and a nod before jogging out of the RV. Rick smiled at her and followed his friend. Lyla sighed and returned her focus to Daryl. It didn't look like he had any internal trauma and for that she was thankful. He would be fine as long as she stitched him up and pumped him full of antibiotics. Her steely resolve wavered as she wiped her hand across the wetness on her cheeks and ran the other through the side of Daryl's bloody hair. She started when a warm hand gently gripped her shoulder. Carol was smiling at her and she could see Glenn and Sophia standing a few feet back staring at her worriedly. Dale was starting up the RV and Andrea was sitting at the table looking dead to the world.

"What do you need from us sweetie?" asked Carol softly. Lyla sniffed and gave her a quick smile.

"I'm going to give him a mild sedative because he's probably going to wake up in a few minutes and I don't want him thrashing all over the place, which trust me he will," she said with a watery chuckle as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves from her bag, "Could you get me some towels and a bowl of warm water?"

Carol nodded and ran a hand over her hair in comfort. She moved into the small bathroom to get the water. Glenn came over to her with the towels and offered her a hesitant smile.

"You ok?" he asked as he extended the hand holding the towels forward. Lyla nodded.

"Yeah, thanks Glenn. I just kind of panicked at first. Believe it or not he's looked worse than this before."

He smirked as he sat down next to her on the bed.

"I don't doubt it."

Lyla laughed and pulled out a syringe and a small bottle of liquid. She inserted the needle into the top of the bottle and withdrew a small amount of the liquid. She handed Glenn a rubber tourniquet.

"Tie this tightly around his bicep," she told him. Glenn eagerly followed her instructions then scooted sideways on the bed to give her some space to work. Lyla swabbed the inside of Daryl's elbow with alcohol, plunged the needle into a vein, and emptied its contents into the redneck. Glenn watched her as she worked.

"Will that keep him unconscious?" he questioned. Lyla shook her head.

"No, I didn't give him enough to knock him out because I need him awake to assess his head injury, but he'll be kind of out of it and sleepy when he wakes up. Much easier to handle than a fully lucid Dixon."

Glenn laughed softly as Carol came back with the warm water. Lyla thanked her a dipped one of the towels into the bowl. She handed it to Glenn as she turned to the medical bag once more and extracted a pair of tweezers.

"I have to remove all the shrapnel and debris from the wounds and I need you to wash them gently once I do ok?"

Glenn paled but nodded determinedly. Lyla got to work extracting small pieces of metal and gravel from the cuts. Glenn proved to be very adept at cleaning the wounds and they finished on all of the cuts before Daryl began to stir slightly. Lyla shot Glenn a look of potential warning and laid her hand on Daryl's upper arm as she moved closer to his head.

"Daryl?" she called gently while stroking his muscled arm. He mumbled something and pushed his face into the pillow, "Daryl, I need you to open your eyes so I can check for a concussion ok?"

She smiled when she saw a thin strip of blue appear between his lashes.

"There we go. I need to make an evaluation now so you know the drill."

"Fuck off," he grumbled and closed his eyes once again. Lyla glared and slapped his face lightly.

"We're doing this now and then as soon as I'm sure you don't have a concussion I'll give you something stronger and you can sleep for as long as you like. Deal?"

Daryl groaned into the pillow but opened his eyes again lazily. Lyla smiled triumphantly.

"Good," she said, "Now how many fingers am I holding up?"

Daryl rolled his eyes sluggishly and muttered "three". Lyla nodded.

"Now tell me your full name, your age, and the current year," she ordered.

"Daryl Wade Dixon, 34, and its 1980."

Lyla gave him an unimpressed look as Glenn looked horrified.

"Oh my god, what's wrong with him, does he have brain damage?"

Lyla slapped the back of his head.

"Calm down Glenn, he's just being a dick."

"Oh," breathed Glenn as he turned red. Daryl chuckled slowly.

"Not funny Daryl," said Lyla in a stern voice. Daryl didn't look ashamed in the slightest.

"Ah know, Ah know, Ah'm sorry yank," he said lazily with half-lidded eyes, "Where we goin' anyway?"

Lyla huffed but answered anyways as she combed away the hair from his eyes with her fingers.

"We're going home so I can fix you up," she said softly. She gripped his hand gently while his glazed eyes looked somewhat confused.

"We're goin' to our house?" he asked gruffly. Lyla nodded with a smile, but he couldn't seem to process the information with his drug addled mind. He turned his focus on the other part of her statement instead, "How fucked up is ma back? Hurts like hell."

"Nothing I can't handle," said Lyla in a reassuring tone at which Daryl visibly relaxed. It was clear that he trusted her completely, "But I'm going to knock you out now because I don't want you awake when we move you into the house."

"Ah can handle it," he protested indignantly with his mouth in a hard line.

"I know you can," replied Lyla evenly without missing a beat, "But I've already sedated you to the point where any motility will be nearly impossible and I don't want you stumbling around making things worse."

Daryl sighed and closed his eyes. Lyla took this as acceptance. She filled a new syringe with a larger dose of the liquid and pulled his arm towards her. His eyes opened and he stared at her as she injected the drugs into his system. She finished and untied the tourniquet. She met his gaze and ran her fingers down his rough cheek. He'd never allow this type of intimate contact to be displayed in front of Glenn and Carol if he was clear-headed, so she basked in the moment and continued to trail her fingers along his strong jaw. His eyes were slowly closing as the seconds went by. They shut completely and he mumbled something under his breath. Lyla prodded his face gently.

"What babe?" she asked lowly.

"Don't be mad when ya see the kitchen," he mumbled at a slightly louder volume. Lyla looked at him bemusedly.

"What do you mean Daryl? Daryl?" but the sedative was in full effect and he was out like a light. Lyla sighed and smoothed his messy hair away from his face once more. She looked out the window and smiled when she recognized the road they were on. They would be there in a few minutes. She turned back and saw Glenn staring at Daryl with a hard to read expression on his face.

"What?" she asked somewhat defensively. Glenn shook his head with a slight smile.

"Nothing," he said, "It's just that I've never seen him so-so docile I guess."

The corners of Lyla's plump, pink lips turned up.

"Sleepy Daryl is a whole new creature."

"I'll say," he said with a chuckle.

Lyla's face took on a more serious look as she traced one of the large demon tattoos on Daryl's scarred back.

"Thanks for your help Glenn, really," she said quietly as her eyes darted up to his.

"I was happy to assist," he replied with a quick smile, "I know everyone's kind of scared of Daryl, but I can see that he's a good guy despite how he acts."

Lyla nodded swiftly.

"He really is, and he would kill me if he was conscious to hear this, but he just has a lot of trouble in social situations. He's never really been close to anyone besides me and Merle, and it took a lot of effort on my part to get there."

Glenn nodded in understanding and gripped her shoulder in comfort. He offered her a smile.

"We'll ware him down. He'll have to like us eventually, we're the only people left."

Lyla laughed loudly and wiped at her eyes.

"Thanks Glenn," she chuckled.

The RV suddenly came to a shaky stop. She looked out the window and almost started crying in happiness as she saw her and Daryl's house. It was a small two-story house made of dark brown wood with a blue door. A porch extended out from the front and wrapped around to the back. The house was set back a ways from the road on a large plot of land with trees on three sides, and a chain link fence enclosing it. Lyla smiled widely and heard the sounds of car doors opening and slamming. Within a minute both Rick and Shane had reappeared in the RV.

"Nice place," commented Shane with a smile.

"Thanks," said Lyla as she began to gather up the medical supplies, "Daryl built most of it."

Rick whistled in appreciation before casting a look at the unconscious man. He winced as he got a full on view of his bloody back.

"How's he holding up?" he asked tentatively.

"He should be fine unless I missed a major injury," said Lyla. Then she added, "Which I'm 99% sure I didn't. Can you guys carry him into the house?"

"You don't even have to ask Lyla," replied Shane and she smiled gratefully at him.

"He's pumped full of drugs so he won't wake up, but just be carefully not to jostle him too much."

The two policemen nodded and moved to hoist Daryl up carefully. They each pulled one of his thick arms around their shoulders and began to move towards the entrance of the RV. His head lolled towards the floor and Lyla had to remind herself that he was going to survive. She picked up the bag of supplies and followed them down the stairs. They met the others at the gate where they were waiting. Lyla held up her hand and motioned at T-dog. He understood and tossed her the keys. She fumbled with them for a minute before she found the right one to unlock the gate. The odd group followed her up the stairs to the porch and waited while she unlocked the blue door. She went through and held it open so that Shane and Rick could maneuver Daryl through. The others entered after.

They came into a cozy living room with a fireplace and two big leather couches. There were two doors leading off of the room, a hallway on the right side, and a set of stairs on the left. Lyla gestured around with her arms.

"Welcome to the Dixon-Kaiser household everyone, make yourselves at home. The kitchen is through that door and there is a bathroom down the hall. There's a ton of sleeping bags and blankets in the closet downstairs so help yourselves. I'll be back once I stitch up the owner and I'm sure he'll extend his own warm welcome to you all when he comes around."

They all laughed at her sarcastic finish. She waved and then led Shane and Rick up the stairs to her and Daryl's bedroom. She pushed the wooden door open and checked the corners quickly before letting them come in. The men deposited Daryl on the big bed carefully and stepped back.

"Yell if you need any help, alright," said Rick. Lyla nodded and they went to join the others. She took out the medical supplies and started to work. After about an hour all of Daryl's wounds were stitched and bandaged, even the one on his head. She had cleaned the blood out of his hair as best as she could and deemed her job done for now. He would likely sleep for another few hours so she cleaned everything up and managed to get him out of his shoes and jeans. She wriggled him into a pair of old plaid pajama pants from the dresser, kissed his forehead, and made her way back down the stairs. As soon as her feet hit the floor something furry and black launched itself at her leg. She shrieked and then laughed as she realized what it was. A large black cat with huge green eyes was clinging to her leg and meowing loudly. She reached down and picked the thing up to cuddle close to her chest where it purred happily.

"Of course you're still alive Bowie," she practically cooed as the cat snuggled into her. The others stared at her with varying degrees of confusion.

"That's your cat?" asked Lori in disbelief. Lyla looked up at her and smiled.

"Well, Daryl found him, so technically he's his cat," she mused, "But yeah he's pretty much my cat."

"That thing has been clawing us and spitting up a storm since you went upstairs!" exclaimed Dale, and upon closer inspection Lyla saw that he had claw marks along his arms.

"Like I said, he is Daryl's cat. What else do you expect," she said with a grin. She sat down next to T-dog on one of the couches with Bowie on her lap. He glanced at the big cat warily.

"So Bowie huh?" he stated, "Makes sense that Dixon would name his small tiger after a knife."

Lyla rolled her eyes.

"I named him," she huffed as she stroked the purring beast, "And not after the knife dumbass. After David Bowie because he's awesome."

Rick chuckled and shook his head.

"That thing is practically the size of a dog," he laughed.

Lyla held up the animal and examined him.

"He does seem to be bigger than he was a few months ago. Daryl installed a cat flap for him on the back door so he must have been catching a lot of mice in the woods or something."

Glenn cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head.

"About that," he began and Lyla looked at him suspiciously, "Remember that comment Daryl made about the kitchen before he passed out? You might want to come see this."

He gestured towards the kitchen and Lyla followed him with Bowie still in her arms. She groaned when she took in the sight of her eating area. Almost every inch of the wooden floor was covered in dry cat food. It was even covering most of the counters and the small table in the corner. The empty food bags were also littered across the floor. Lyla heard the others snickering behind her as they waited for her reaction. She lifted up the black cat and stared at him as he flicked his tail back and forth.

"I wasn't here for one day and this is what he does?" she said to the cat, "No wonder you got so big. He left you with enough food for a lifetime."

She shifted the cat to one arm and raised a hand to her forehead as she turned to the group.

"I'm guessing that Bowie was out in the woods when Daryl and Merle tore through here and that's why Daryl didn't bring him. He must have panicked and slashed open all of the bags of food we had in the basement for when Bowie came back to the house," she paused and turned to look at the mess once more, "I think I'm going to kill him."

**Thanks so much for reading! Review if you want but don't feel pressured or anything. They really do help though and if you have a suggestion or something you want to see happen, it could be big or just a specific moment between the characters, just post it in the reviews. Thanks again!**


	8. Morphine and Memories

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the walking dead**

**AN: Thanks so much for everyone who reviewed, it helps me soooo much. Here's chapter 8!**

Lyla huffed and wiped a bead of sweat off of her forehead as she finally finished cleaning up all of the cat food in the kitchen. Between her, Glenn, and Lori, they had managed to get all the food packaged back into bags and the kitchen surfaces sanitized. Bowie had sat on top of the fridge and watched during the whole process. She glared at the animal and shook her head.

"Fatty," she muttered and Glenn laughed. Lori patted her on the shoulder as she moved to toss one of the destroyed bags in the garbage.

"Well that wasn't too bad," reasoned the older woman, "It didn't even take that long once we got down to it."

"Yeah I guess," snorted Lyla as she crossed her arms across her chest, "Thanks for your help guys. Lets go get something to eat."

She led them down a set of stairs and into a small basement. She opened a set of double doors and began handing out cans of food to the other two.

"Here," she said, "There's a decent amount of food in here. We should be fine for a few days at least."

The three took as many cans in their arms as they could and headed back to the living room where everyone else was situated. Their arrival was met with cheers as the others saw the food in their arms. Lyla smiled as she passed around the goods then collapsed on one of the couches.

"The kitchen all clean?" asked Shane as he sucked down some cold soup straight from the can. Lyla waved a hand in his direction.

"Yeah it's taken care of," she said easily but then rolled her eyes, "No thanks to Mr. Dixon up there."

She jerked her thumb towards the ceiling. The others chuckled.

"When will Daryl be ok again?" asked Sophia in a small voice once everyone had quieted down. Lyla's eyes widened slightly in surprise; Sophia had never spoken to her before. She smiled at the little girl gently.

"He should be fine in a few weeks. Ideally I'd like to keep him off his feet for a week, but I have to be realistic here because it is Daryl, so I'll settle for two or three days."

"I'm guessing he's not the best patient then?" asked Dale wryly.

"Spot on," laughed Lyla in response. She stood and ran a hand through her hair, "Speaking of him, I need to go pump some painkillers into his system, because the sedative won't last for much longer. He'll need to be pretty drugged up for a day or two so he'll be groggy if he makes it down later. Anyways I'll be back in a few."

She ran up the stairs and entered the bedroom. Daryl was in the exact position that she had left him in. She lifted a few of the thick, white bandages to check on the wounds underneath. Once she was satisfied with the cuts, she removed the necessary items from the bag of medical supplies. She cradled his arm gently and swabbed the inside of his elbow with alcohol before injecting a dose of the morphine into him. Daryl didn't respond during any part of her ministrations. Lyla hated seeing her boyfriend weak and dependent on another person; it was so unlike him. She sighed and smoothed some of his hair away from his face before lying down on the bed sideways so that she was facing him. She studied his peaceful face intently.

His skin was still deeply tanned from all the exposure to the sun and Lyla could even see that a dusting of light freckles had appeared across his nose and cheeks. His goatee was nearly undistinguishable from the thick stubble that had sprouted on his jaw over the last few days. She smiled as she ran a hand through his almost blonde hair and thought of all the times she had practically dragged him into the bathroom to clean up the shaggy mess. His skin was radiating heat and Lyla reminded herself to get some antibiotics into him as soon as he was awake. Her fingers ghosted over one of the larger scars on his back lightly and she bit her lip. He'd have a whole new bunch of scars to add to his already ruined back now. She wasn't bothered in the slightest by the presence of scars on his body but she knew that he hated them and what they reminded him of.

Lyla forced herself to suck back the wave of sorrow that was threatening to crash over her and left the room. After leaning against the wall in the hallway for a few minutes, she steeled herself and descended the stairs. Everyone was still congregated in the living room and laughing at some story that Dale had told. They called to her when her feet hit the floor and she forced herself to smile back. She took a seat next to Lori on the floor and the older woman looked at her out of the corner of her eye.

"You doing alright hon?" she asked sincerely as she wrapped a thin arm around Lyla's shoulders and gave her a brief hug. Lyla nodded and let out a breath.

"Yeah," she answered somewhat shakily, "I just got caught up in a moment."

Lori smiled and handed her a can of chopped pineapple.

"Eat up young lady," she ordered gently.

"Yes ma'am," retorted Lyla sarcastically before she dug into the canned fruit. She let her mind drift as the others continued their conversations. Ever since she became convinced that Daryl was going to be ok, her mind had been replaying the same conversation over and over again: the short exchange that had occurred between her and Daryl minutes before the CDC blew up. He had mentioned that he wanted to _marry_ her and Lyla's head was still spinning from that. They had never talked about marriage or even the possibility of it before the apocalypse. It had never even occurred to her. They were just so happy the way they were that they didn't see any reason to change it. She always assumed that Daryl didn't believe in marriage, but now that he had brought it up she couldn't keep herself from focusing on it. She had never been one of those girls that had preemptively planned every detail of her wedding, and she never would be, but the thought of marrying Daryl seemed so completely right.

She was distracted from her inner musings by a creak from the stairs and it was only then that she realized it had gotten dark outside. Everyone's heads whipped towards the source of the noise and the sight of a very disgruntled and confused looking Daryl greeted their eyes. He squinted into the dimly lit room as he seemed to sway slightly from side to side with his pajama pants hanging precariously low on his slim hips. Lyla shot up quickly along with Shane and T-dog.

"Fuck," she muttered loudly enough for the whole group to hear, "He shouldn't be moving around just yet, it's not safe."

She darted over to where her drugged up boyfriend was bracing himself against the wall with one strong arm. She held up her hand behind her in order to keep Shane and T-dog at a distance before peering up at Daryl cautiously. She placed one hand on his limp arm as the other reached up to feel his throat for a pulse. It was deep and steady. Lyla withdrew her hand and placed it on his too-warm chest.

"Daryl," she said soothingly, "We need to get you back up to bed, you're going to tear your stitches."

Daryl finally seemed to register that she was there as he heard the sound of her raspy voice. He grinned wildly with glazed eyes and wrapped both his arms around her shoulders. Lyla grunted and her knees buckled as he leaned into her heavily with his face in her hair.

"Come on Daryl," Lyla managed to get out, "Back upstairs."

He mumbled something unintelligible into her hair and shook his head. Lyla tried to take a step towards the stairs but stopped immediately when Daryl's knees gave out. Luckily Shane and T-dog caught him before he hit the ground. Lyla groaned and raised a hand to her head. Clearly they wouldn't be able to drag him back up the stairs without tearing open al his wounds, so the couch was going to have to do. She motioned to Shane and T-dog to bring him over to one of the big leather couches. Dale and Carol, who had been occupying said couch, quickly got off of it. Lyla helped the men guide Daryl to lie on his stomach and the others gasped as they saw the mess of bandages covering his back.

"Oh my god," whispered Lori from behind her hand, "I didn't know it was that bad."

Lyla nodded grimly and sat down near Daryl's unmoving head.

"It looks a lot worse than it is."

She parted the hair on the back of Daryl's head to check on the wound there. He stirred at her touch and began to move. Lyla, thinking he was going to get up again, tried to stop his movement but her protests were unneeded as Daryl simply lifted his head enough to plop it down in her lap. He grumbled and his beard tickled her delicate skin.

"I almost forgot how strongly your body reacts to morphine," she smirked as her hand stroked the back of his neck. He sighed into her leg. The others were still openly staring at his heavily bandaged back. Lyla frowned as she saw red spots on some of the bigger bandages. She lifted the corners of them and her worries were confirmed when she saw that some of the stitches had been pulled. She looked up at Shane.

"Can you grab the bag of supplies that's up in our room?" she asked softly, "I've got to re-stitch a few of these."

"Here?" asked Carol with wide eyes.

"Lugging him back up the stairs will only make things worse. He has to do it on his own." replied Lyla as she removed the bandages from the bleeding wounds, "He'll be fine here until his head is clear enough to make it back up."

Lori ushered the kids out of the room then returned to offer her assistance. Shane ran back down the stairs and handed Lyla the bag.

"Thanks," she said warmly while pulling on a pair of latex gloves and stringing up the needle. She looked up at the group again, "Could a few of you help hold him down in case he tries to move?"

Rick and Shane nodded and Lori gripped her shoulder tightly. Lyla smiled.

"There's a bunch of books on a shelf in the other room if everyone else wants something to do."

The others trickled out of the room at that, offering words of encouragement and sympathy as they went. Lyla instructed the two policemen to grip the redneck's shoulders tightly and she lowered her head to talk quietly to him.

"Daryl?" she called. He lifted his head somewhat and stared at her with glazed eyes, "I have to fix the cuts you messed up so don't move ok? I doubt you'll feel anything with all the morphine in your system, but tell me if you do instead of moving alright?"

His blue eyes stared blankly at her for a moment and then he nodded and placed his head back in her lap.

"Do what ya havta," he grunted out. Lyla kissed the top of his head and then started on the first of the cuts. Daryl's muscles twitched as the needle entered his skin and his fingers gripped her thigh tightly, but he didn't flinch away. Lyla worked as quickly as she could to spare him any more discomfort. She tied off the last stitch and cut the string. After nodding to Shane and Rick they removed their hands from Daryl's broad shoulders and stepped back. She plastered new bandages over the wounds and surveyed her work carefully. She laughed when she realized that her boyfriend was lightly snoring into her lap. She tapped his face lightly.

"Wake up redneck," she said softly, "You need to eat something and take some antibiotics."

He groaned but complied and propped himself up on his elbows. Lyla gripped his bicep in comfort when she saw him wince profusely as the skin on his back stretched.

"I'm sorry," she whispered somewhat guiltily as she helped him into a sitting position, "I can't give you any more morphine for a couple of hours. You'll have to tough it out."

"Ah'm fine," he grunted angrily. The vice-like grip he had on Lyla's shoulder told her differently.

"Of course you are," she said with a roll of her eyes, "I'll be right back."

Daryl nodded before resting his head on the back of the couch with his eyes closed. There was obviously still some morphine running through his body. Lyla smiled at the two cops and bounded up the stairs. She entered the bedroom and strode over to the dresser. After pulling on a pair of comfortable sleep shorts and one of Daryl's sleeveless plaid shirts, she grabbed an old black t-shirt emblazoned with the Ramones insignia. Daryl wouldn't be comfortable being shirtless in front of the others. She padded back down the stairs softly. Rick and Shane were awkwardly standing on the edge of the room as Daryl stared angrily at the wooden ceiling like it had personally offended him. He was becoming more and more like his usual self with every passing minute.

She dropped the t-shirt on the couch next to Daryl and pulled her long hair into a loose ponytail. She started to pull on her boots and Daryl raised his head.

"Where do ya think yer going?" he asked loudly. Lyla huffed.

"I have to get you some antibiotics. Merle's stash is still on his bike right?" she asked as she met his angry blue gaze.

"Yeah," he grunted, "But yer crazy if ya think Ah'm gunna let ya go out there in the dark."

Lyla opened her mouth to protest, but Shane cut her off.

"He's right Lyla. You shouldn't be going out there alone. Me and Rick will go get the stuff."

Daryl begrudgingly nodded in thanks towards the man as he grasped Lyla's wrist tightly in one of his large hands. Lyla sighed and saw that there was no use in arguing. Rick and Shane quickly grabbed their guns and headed out the front door. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief when the door shut and he seemed to collapse in on himself slightly. Lyla looked at him in concern.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she held a hand to his forehead to check for a fever. Daryl grasped her hand with his own and brought both down to rest on his pajama clad hip.

"Like someone ran over me with a lawnmower," he snorted. Lyla didn't look amused. She raised her thin eyebrows at him expectantly. He sighed again, "Ah feel like shit but Ah've had worse. Ya know that."

Lyla bit her plump bottom lip and dropped her gaze from his. He furrowed his eyebrows at her strangely meek behavior.

"What's wrong yank?" he asked gruffly. She sniffed suddenly and his unease grew. "Lyla…" he breathed, "Come on girl, talk to me."

She sniffed again and raised her head to look at him. Her pale green eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered meekly. Daryl was rapidly becoming more and more worried.

"What the hell for?" he returned harshly. Lyla's lips quivered and the tears in her eyes threatened to fall. She had been pushing the guilt to the back of her mind since Daryl had gotten hurt, but now that he was awake and talking it came back in full force.

"If I hadn't stopped in the medical supply room we would have made it to the truck before the building blew and you wouldn't have been hurt," she gasped out. Daryl's eyes softened. He ignored his pain and pulled her against his bare chest.

"It ain't yer fuckin' fault," he told her bluntly as her head came to rest in the crook of his neck, "So don't let me catch ya sayin' that again."

"But-" Lyla began.

"Shut up," growled Daryl bluntly, "Ah would've done somethin' stupid and gotten maself banged up soon enough anyway. Just lucky ya thought to get those supplies. The group'll probably need 'em anyway. So don't be beatin' yerself up about it ya hear?"

He gave her a little shake and she hurriedly nodded into his neck. She drew her head back and wiped her hand under her eyes. Daryl wrinkled his nose.

"And quit yer cryin', ya've never been weepy like this before and its freakin' me out yank."

Lyla gave a watery chuckle and pressed her lips to his gently. He raised a hand to the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. Lyla moaned as his tongue entered her mouth. The front door banged open and they broke apart quickly. Rick smirked as he came in and took note of Daryl's disheveled hair. Shane smirked too and tossed Lyla the refrigerator bag full of prescription bottles. She thanked them both and they backed out of the room as she rummaged through the bag. After finding a bottle of Amoxicillin, she shook two out into her palm and handed them to Daryl. He grabbed them without complaint and dry-swallowed both at the same time. Lyla gave him a weak glare.

"You should've waited until I got you some water and food. Those aren't meant to be taken on an empty stomach," she chided gently. Daryl ignored her and began to pull on the t-shirt that she had brought down for him. She watched him struggle for a moment as his skin shifted painfully before rolling her eyes and helping him pull it over his head. He grumbled a bit but let her help him anyway. Lyla pulled it down over the bandages on his back carefully so as to not disturb the injuries. She sat back and laughed at how crazy his hair looked. He raised an eyebrow at her laughter as he attempted to tame it with his fingers.

"Ah don't like havin' all these people here," he said after a few moments of silence, "Too fuckin' crowded already."

"I know," sighed Lyla as she ripped the top off of a can of chili, "But it's not like we're going to be here for a while anyway."

Daryl nodded slowly with his eyes half-closed. Lyla studied him closely.

"Let me see your arm for a second," she said. Daryl didn't hesitate and held out his arm with the palm of his hand facing upwards. She gripped his elbow with one hand and placed her fingers on his wrist with the other to take his pulse. It was very slow but even.

"You definitely still have some morphine in your system."

"Ah could've told ya that," Daryl said with a slow roll of his eyes. Lyla nudged his leg and handed him the open can of chili with a fork. He picked at the room temperature meat disinterestedly.

"Eat some of it before the antibiotics start working or you'll feel sick," she said sternly before settling back into the couch next to him. She dropped her head to his shoulder with a yawn and threw one of her long, tan legs between his. He carefully lifted one arm to drape over her shoulders and she snuggled into his warmth. They stayed like that until both drifted into unconsciousness. Lyla didn't how long they'd been asleep for when a loud laugh from the other room jolted her awake. She sat up and ran a hand through her caramel hair. Daryl was still dozing with his head leaned back on the couch. Lyla thought they must have been asleep for at least a few hours. She didn't realize how exhausted she had been from the events of the day.

She shook Daryl awake gently as she heard multiple pairs of footsteps in the hallway. The others were all suddenly piling into the room and taking seats everywhere. Sophia walked in holding Bowie in her arms. The cat started immediately meowing frantically when he saw Daryl and he squirmed until the little girl was forced to drop him. He streaked toward Daryl who had wide eyes and launched himself onto his chest where he clung to the fabric of his shirt with his claws. A flash of pain shot across Daryl's face as the heavy animal collided into him.

"Fuckin' cat," he muttered as Bowie rubbed his head against Daryl's face. Sophia giggled. Lyla smiled and reached for the cat only to have it hiss at her and cling tighter to Daryl.

"Fine, I see how it is," she said while glaring at the animal, "You don't care about me anymore now that he's here."

"Always was the favorite," quipped Daryl as he rubbed between the cat's ears. Lyla noticed that he was flinching subtly every few seconds and attempting to hide it. She mentally berated herself for not realizing that the morphine had wore off. She knew he would never admit that he was hurting in front of everyone.

"Come on," she said softly to Daryl as she removed her leg from his and stood up, "I'm tired and I don't want to be up there alone."

Daryl nodded and pushed Bowie off of his chest. The cat yowled as he landed on the floor. Daryl ignored his girlfriend's extended hand and pushed himself to his feet painfully. He winced as he felt the stitches pull. Lyla wrapped her arms around his waist to make it look like she was hugging him instead of helping him stay standing. Daryl wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders and the two slowly set off towards the stairs. Lyla stopped at the bottom of them and turned to face the group.

"Night everyone, come wake me up if anything happens or you need something," she called. The others shouted back "good nights" to both her and Daryl and then continued to talk in hushed tones. Lyla turned back and started up the stairs with Daryl. It was a painstaking process, as she was supporting most of his weight, and by the time they got to the landing they were both sweating and out of breath. Lyla held onto Daryl until they got to the small bathroom connected to their bedroom. She helped him sit on the toilet seat before leaving to get the morphine. She returned a minute or two later with the necessary supplies to see Daryl resting his head in his hands. She ran a hand through the hair on the top of his head and he leaned into her touch. She stepped closer and he wrapped his arms around her waist before pushing his face into her stomach.

Lyla sighed and continued to run her hand through his hair.

"How's the pain?" she asked in a whisper.

"Fuckin' sucks now that Ah don't have anythin' in ma system," he grunted into her stomach. Lyla kissed the top of his head and prepared the syringe with the correct dose of morphine. She unwrapped one of his arms as gently as she could and swabbed the inside of his elbow with rubbing alcohol. Then she plunged the needle into his skin and emptied its contents. The effects of the medicine were almost instantaneous and Daryl let out a long breath as the tension left his body. She held onto him for a few more moments then stepped away and began looking through a drawer.

"What're doin?" asked Daryl sluggishly as he fought against the morphine to stay lucid. Lyla withdrew a pair of scissors from the drawer triumphantly then turned back to him.

"I'm going to cut your hair, because honestly it's getting ridiculous," she said and he chuckled, "Then we both need to shower, especially you because you're still covered in dirt."

"Alright," drawled Daryl slowly as Lyla retook her position in front of him.

"Hold still," Lyla commanded as she set to work on his mess of hair. She felts his fingers grab the waistband of her shorts as she worked and his touch felt like fire against her cool skin. She sighed impatiently as she cut chunk after chunk of his too long hair off. It must have been almost two months since he had bothered to cut his hair or have Merle do it. She was careful around the healing cut on the back of his head. After about fifteen minutes she had finally gotten it to an appropriate length and she finished by evening the sides out. His eyes and ears were finally un-obscured again and Lyla snickered as she realized that his normal brown hair was back. She had cut off all the hair that the sun had practically bleached.

"Ok you're done," she said as she brushed hair off of his shoulders and then dragged him up to his feet, "Remember that we need to be careful of all your stitches in the hot water."

She began to unbutton her shirt and giggled as Daryl's hot hands pushed down her shorts. She kicked them off and discarded her shirt before helping him out of his t-shirt.

"Are you ok to shave or do you want to wait until tomorrow?"

"Ah can do it," mumbled Daryl as he moved towards the sink. Lyla turned on the water to the shower as he lathered up his face with shaving cream and found one of his old razors from the cabinet. He quickly shaved everything off of his face, leaving only a faint hint of a goatee. He splashed his face with water and jumped slightly when he felt Lyla's small hand press gently into his back.

"I just have to take all the bandages off first," she whispered. Daryl gripped the sink tightly as she peeled bandage after bandage off of his back.

"There," she murmured as she removed the last one. He turned around and let her untie his pajama pants before pushing them and his boxers down. He stepped out of them and she led him into the warm water. He shuddered as the stream hit him and cascaded down his torn up back. Lyla washed herself before taking a bar of soap and gently washing the skin around the stitched wounds on his back. He clenched and unclenched his hands as the soap seeped into the cuts.

"Sorry," whispered Lyla as she hurried to finish. When she was done she wrapped her arms around his middle carefully and pressed her forehead against one of the demon tattoos on his back. She was happy that his tattoos were undamaged; she loved them and had memorized every single detail of each one. Daryl sighed deeply as the hot water ran over his newly shorn hair and down his chest. He turned in her arms to face her and buried his face in her wet neck. Lyla rubbed her hands up and down his sides as he breathed deeply. He was acting like a child, seeking her comfort and letting her take care of him. The only times he acted like this were when he was drugged up after a trip to the hospital or when he had been through an extremely traumatic situation. She vividly remembered the day when he had run into one of his father's old drinking buddies and she had first experienced this immature side of him.

**FLASHBACK**

_"Lyla!"_

_The pretty, young girl looked up from the pile of hypodermic needles she was sorting as she heard her name being called. It was one of the nurses from the desk._

_"You got a phone call," she shouted over to her, "Guy says it's an emergency."_

_Lyla furrowed her eyes in confusion as she began to make her way over to the desk. The only people who had the hospital's number were her mom, dad, and Daryl. Her and Daryl had been together for nearly a year at that point, but he had never called her on the hospital phone. She accepted the phone from the desk nurse with a mumbled word of thanks._

_"Hello?" she asked into the silence on the other side. There was no response for a few moments then a raspy voice spoke back._

_"That you girly?"_

_Lyla grew more confused as she heard Merle's voice. She had gotten well acquainted with Daryl's brother very quickly after they had started dating. He was fiercely protective of his younger brother and Lyla liked him tremendously for it; Daryl wasn't an easy person to look after alone._

_"Merle? Yeah it's me, what's wrong. Is it Daryl? Is he-"_

_Merle cut her off._

_"Yeah Ah'm calling about Daryl. He's-he's not hurt or nothin' but ya need to come over here now."_

_"What, why? What happened Merle?" she asked as her voice started to fill with panic._

_"Ah'll explain everythin' when ya get here girl."_

_The phone line went dead. Lyla was frozen for a moment before she spun into action._

_Twenty minutes later she was pulling into Daryl's driveway. As she got out of her car and walked through the fence gate, she saw Merle standing on the porch with his huge arms crossed in front of him. Lyla started to get scared again when she saw how angry Merle looked. She started talking as soon as she was within ten feet of the porch._

_"Merle I swear to god if you don't tell me-"_

_He held up a hand to stop her and then gestured for her to come nearer._

_"Don't be panickin' girl," he said seriously, "Ah told ya he ain't been hurt or nothing."_

_"So why-"_

_"Just shut up fer a minute and Ah'll tell ya," Merle bit out harshly. He took a big breath before continuing, "Ya remember all that shit Ah told ya 'bout our daddy and all the fucked up stuff he did to ma baby brother?"_

_"Of course," Lyla whispered as she paled at the thought of it. Merle nodded once._

_"Well sometimes the ol' bastard would have some friends over to play cards and drink and shit, and if they all got too pissed some of 'em would, uh, help out ma daddy."_

_Lyla grit her teeth together in fury._

_"You mean they helped him hurt Daryl?" she asked angrily._

_"Yeah somethin' like that," he growled out, "We didn' see hide or tail of his buddies after Ah beat the sum'bitch ta death, but today me an' little brother were checkin' out some new shit at the huntin' store and we ran into one of 'em."_

_"What happened?" asked Lyla urgently, "Did he do something to Daryl?"_

_"Barely said two words 'fore Ah knocked him out cold," Merle replied proudly, "Didn' matter though, ma brother'd already seen the prick."_

_"And?" prompted Lyla as she wrung her hands together. Merle was starting to look uneasy now as well. He scratched the back of his head with one meaty hand and cast a look back towards the brown house._

_"Dunno what happened exactly, Daryl just kinda shut down. Ain't been able ta get a word outta him since it happened. Ain't ever seen him this bad since he woke up in the hospital when he was fourteen."_

_Lyla bit her lip nervously._

_"He hasn't said anything at all?"_

_"Nah nothin'," started Merle, "And Ah don' like thinkin' 'bout how this could turn out. Now baby brother's only got two people on this planet. You and me. And he ain't talkin' to me. Now Ah trust ya Lyla, Ah really do, and he trusts ya. Only other person he trusts 'sides me. Now you gotta get him outta this alright?"_

_Lyla nodded shakily and Merle clapped a hand to her thin shoulder. _

_"He's upstairs."_

_Lyla quickly enter the house and made her way over to the stairs. She quietly ascended them and paused before Daryl's bedroom door. It was practically her room now too since she spent nearly all of her time here anyways. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door slowly. She called out his name tentatively. There was no answer. Her eyes swept the room until they spotted her boyfriend's form. He was sitting on the floor in the corner of the room with his back pushed against the wall. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his head was hanging slightly. His eyes were staring lifelessly at the wooden floor in front of him. The bottom half of his shirt was unbuttoned and Lyla saw his hand running along a thick scar that wrapped around his hip._

_Lyla swallowed back her emotions and made her way over to him slowly. She crouched down in front of him and called his name softly again. He still didn't respond. She reached out a hand to grasp his wrist. She jumped and nearly screamed when he flinched powerfully as her skin came in contact with his. She withdrew her hand quickly and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him. She leaned forward and cleared her throat._

_"Look Daryl," she started in a soft tone, "I know neither of us are much good with emotional stuff like this but I'm going to try because I really care about you."_

_His unblinking stare was still focused on the floor._

_"I don't know the exact details of what that man did to you, but I know enough about what happened with your dad and it makes me sick. No one should have to experience what you did."_

_Her voice shook slightly as she continued._

_"I can't even begin to try to understand what happened to you, but I can promise you that nothing like that will ever happen to you again. I mean seriously have you seen how Merle is right now? He's about ready to bash some skulls in because he doesn't know how to help you and he's scared. Honestly I don't know what to do either, but I know that I'll do anything to try to help you, just like Merle will. He loves you and he's scared because he doesn't know how to fix this. He told me to come over because he knows I feel the same way. He-he knows that I love you."_

_She exhaled as she said those words to him for the first time. They had never needed to express their feelings through words before, neither of them were like that, but she felt like this situation called for it. She noticed that Daryl's breathing had changed slightly and was becoming shallower. She continued. _

_"Fuck, this all sounds so corny out loud," she said with a watery chuckle, "But I just have to get it all out. I really do mean it when I say I love you Daryl. I've never felt like this about someone before, and I don't know what made you choose me of all people to let into your life, but I'm thankful more and more everyday. So just let me help you. I don't care how, you don't have to talk to me or anything, just let me do something to lessen what you're feeling. Because I love you Daryl. I really really do. And I'm not going to judge you for anything that happened, I just want to help."_

_He blinked a few times looking like he was confused about something. Lyla saw that his hand was still rubbing at the particular scar on his hip. There were red marks from where his nails had dug in. She took a chance and gently grasped his large hand with her much smaller once. He twitched a little but he didn't flinch like he had before or try to pull his hand away. His eyes snapped up to hers for the first time since she arrived. He looked so scared and young as he stared at her with his bright blue eyes. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand and he looked down._

_"It hurts," he mumbled and Lyla pushed back her tears at the weakness in his raspy voice, "It keeps hurtin'."_

_"What does? Your scar?" whispered Lyla as she placed her other hand on his arm._

_"The place where he cut me."_

_He didn't even seem to be speaking to her as he reached down his hand to dig at the large scar with his nails. Lyla grasped his hand with both of hers and refused to let him touch the inflamed flesh again. He struggled for a moment but then let his arm go limp. Lyla kept her hold on his hand and moved so she was sitting next to him against the wall. She hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder and when he didn't flinch she moved her hand into his messy hair. She massaged his scalp lightly and felt him relax a tiny amount._

_"Come on redneck," she whispered, "Let's move to the bed. It'll be more comfortable."_

_She moved to get up but Daryl started to shake his head fervently and his hand tightened on hers. She lowered herself back down._

_"Alright its fine," she said soothingly as her hand resumed stroking his hair, "We can stay here, its ok."_

_His body was trembling slightly and it was a shock to Lyla to see the normally strong and abrasive man act so differently._

_"What's happening?" she asked in barely more than a whisper. He was silent for almost a minute, and Lyla thought he wasn't going to say anything, but then he spoke up in a broken voice._

_"Ah keep seein' him comin' at me with the broken beer bottle," he whispered hoarsely as both his hands went to grip his hair tightly, "Ah can't fuckin' get it out of ma head."_

_Lyla shushed him and pulled his hands away from his face. Then she pulled his head down to her chest and continued running her hands through his hair._

_"I think Merle made sure that scumbag won't be drinking again for a long time, not with the broken jaw and concussion I'm sure he's got now."_

_Daryl didn't respond but Lyla felt some of the tension leave his broad shoulders as she rubbed one hand across the top of his back. Slowly she felt his breathes deepen as he gradually fell into a fitful sleep against her chest. Only when she was positive that he was asleep did she let her tears fall. She cried silently as she rubbed his back over and over again, thinking of the abuse that her boyfriend had gone through. It was like this that Merle found them almost a half an hour later. He sighed as he took in his sleeping brother and the hysterically crying Lyla. He hoisted his little brother up and Lyla helped to place him on the bed. He didn't wake up during the movement. Lyla was still sniffling as she took off his shoes and pulled off his jeans. Merle ran a hand over his shaved head._

_"Why don' ya get on back ta the hospital girly," he whispered, "Ah got it covered here."_

_Lyla whipped around to glare at the older man._

_"I'm not leaving," she whispered fiercly before climbing into the bed next to the sleeping Daryl, "I already told them that I wouldn't be back until tomorrow."_

_ Merle held his hands up in surrender._

_"Alright, alright. Jus' didn' know what ya were thinkin' of doin'. Ah think its best is ya stayed here fer now anyway. Don' wan' him freakin' out again when he wakes up."_

_Lyla nodded and pulled the covers up to Daryl's waist. Merle stared at his brother for another minute before moving towards the doorway._

_"Ah'll be downstairs all day if anythin' happens."_

**END FLASHBACK**

Lyla was shaken from her memories as Daryl fumbled for the dial behind him. He finally succeeded and the stream of water shut off. Lyla stepped out of Daryl's warm embrace and squeezed the water out of her hair as he watched lazily. Lyla smirked.

"You're basically asleep already aren't you?" she asked wryly. She laughed when he didn't respond.

"Daryl!" she said at a louder volume. His blue eyes snapped up.

"Hmm?" was his intelligent response. Lyla smiled and pulled him out of the shower by one hand. She toweled herself off quickly then did the same for him since the effects of the morphine were growing with each passing minute. She didn't bother with any clothing for either of them. Instead she went straight from the bathroom to the bed, dragging Daryl behind her. He wouldn't move around much in his drug-induced slumber, so he would be fine without bandages on his back for the night.

Lyla climbed into the bed after helping Daryl get situated on his stomach. As soon as she laid down, Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist and put his head on her bare stomach. She sighed and rubbed his tan shoulder.

"Daryl?" she asked quietly into the darkness, "Did you mean what you said right before the CDC blew up. About getting married?"

Lyla waited with baited breath as the seconds stretched into minutes and no response came from Daryl. She was about to give up and give herself over to sleep when his mumbled answer cut through the air.

"Course Ah did darlin'. Ain't ever lied to ya before."

Lyla couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.

"Didn't see you as the type to get married," she joked softly as she traced one of the scars near his neck.

"Didn' plan to 'fore Ah met ya."

Despite her efforts, Lyla couldn't get anything else out of him after that; the morphine finally pushed him into a deep sleep. She yawned and turned her head slightly before succumbing to the blackness as well.

**Thanks so much for reading! Sorry that this was such a serious chapter. I'll make the next one a lot more light-hearted.**


	9. Anger and Campfires

**disclaimer: i do not own any part of the walking dead**

**AN: First of all I am sooooo sorry that it has taken me this long to update. I had an extremely busy week and ran into some writer's block. That being said, I'm not too proud of this chapter so I apologize for it if you guys aren't happy. I promise that the next chapter will be awesome! Here's chapter 9! AND SERIOUSLT THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS THEY ARE AWESOME!**

Lyla blinked against the harsh light from the sunrise that streamed into the bedroom window and directly onto her face. As she slowly regained consciousness she realized that she was sweltering due to Daryl's form draped over her own. His face was pressed into the crook of her neck, his legs were tangled in between hers, and his arm was thrown over her stomach. She had almost forgotten how cuddly he got in his sleep. A bead of sweat rolled down Lyla's naked chest as she panted. She stayed completely still as long as she could before it was too much and she tried to wake him.

"Daryl?" she whispered.

He didn't respond. She said his name louder and started to slightly panic when he still didn't react. She rolled him off of her chest gently and raised a hand to his neck. His heart was beating strongly and evenly. Lyla let out a breath of relief; he was just sleeping off the dose of morphine she had given him last night. She ran a hand through his once again brown hair. Between a solid night of sleep and a haircut, Daryl was already looking a whole lot better. Lyla smirked slightly as her hand dropped to his clean-shaven face. She hadn't seen him with this little facial hair in years. It made him look so much younger and infinitely more innocent than he actually was.

Lyla kissed the tattoo on his muscular chest and gently pushed herself off of the bed. She had decided yesterday that she wanted to hunt today and getting an early start was imperative. Daryl surpassed her by far in hunting ability, but she was capable enough to round up some squirrels for the group and they could really use some fresh meat. Lyla pulled on a pair of cut-off shorts and one of Daryl's shirts before casting a nervous glance at her boyfriend. He would be furious that she went out into the woods alone and that was specifically why she was leaving before he woke up.

She scribbled down a quick note with a sigh and pulled the blankets up to cover Daryl's naked bottom half in case someone came into the room. She picked up his Horton, kissed the top of his head, and headed out the door without looking back.

Daryl rolled over with a moan as the pain in his back woke him. He reached out blindly to his right in search of Lyla's warm body and his eyes opened blearily when his hand only encountered a cold spot. He called his girlfriend's name as he pushed himself up to rest on his elbows. The action elicited another moan from him as the stitched cuts covering his back stretched painfully.

"Lyla?" he rasped again before swinging his bare legs onto the floor. She wasn't in the bedroom and he could see that she wasn't in the attached bathroom either. He pulled on a pair of jeans without boxers followed by a plain white t-shirt. Then he slowly and painfully made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Glenn, Shane, and Rick were leaning against the counters and they all looked up as he walked in barefoot.

"Hey man, woah you look different," stuttered Glenn as he took in the sight of a cleaned up Daryl, "Your hair looks good. Did Lyla do it?"

Daryl ignored the younger man and focused his attention on Rick, he unspoken leader of the group.

"Ya seen her?" he asked gruffly. He made to cross his big arms over his chest but stopped when the movement caused pain to shoot through his back. He really needed some more pain meds. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as Rick's voice answered.

"Lyla?" the cop asked politely. Daryl nodded once and Rick scratched at his face, "No one's seen her today, but here, she left this taped to the back door."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the other man and snatched the piece of paper from his outstretched hand. He shifted his eyes downward to read what was written on the paper.

_Went hunting. I'll be back in a few hours._

_-Lyla_

_P.S. Don't be mad Daryl, I'm fine._

Fear coursed through Daryl as he read the note and he vaguely registered that his hands had started to shake. He crumpled the paper in his fist. How could she be so stupid to go out into the woods alone? They had no idea how many walkers were crawling in the area. He dropped the paper to the ground and spun around abruptly.

"FUCK!" he yelled as his fist connected with one of the cabinets. The other three occupants of the room jumped in surprise. Daryl doubled over as his back exploded in pain from his physical exertion.

"Hey Daryl-" began Shane but the angry redneck cut him off.

"SHUT UP!"

He still managed to sound threatening despite being hunched over and wheezing like an old man. His hand was already throbbing from its impact with the wood. He looked down at it and groaned when he saw that two of his knuckles were busted open and bleeding freely. Shane swallowed and tried to reason with him again.

"Look Lyla shouldn't have gone off on her own, but she's a smart girl, we all know that," Daryl didn't look at him while he spoke, "She can handle herself in a tough situation and I'm sure she'll be back in one piece."

Daryl ignored him and thrust his hands into his short hair as he began to pace the length of the kitchen muttering to himself. There wouldn't be any point in going out into the woods to look for her; they stretched for miles around and he would never be able to successfully track her in his condition, the pain was too debilitating. He didn't doubt that she could take care of herself in the slightest, but she could always get unlucky or run into a herd, and no one could defend themselves against that many walkers no matter how adept they were. He changed the direction of his pacing and practically stomped out the back door with Bowie sprinting from the living room to follow him. After grabbing a lawn chair from the deck, and ignoring the flare of pain it caused, he dragged it to the middle of the yard. He sat down with an angry expulsion of air and stared hard at the dense woods that lay before him. If she came back, no, when she came back he was going to give her a piece of his fucking mind and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Back in the kitchen the three men stared at the redneck from the window. Rick sighed.

"Well, I can't say that I imagined that to go much differently," he said tiredly, "Don't know why Lyla even bothered to tell him not to be angry."

"I don't know," said Glenn as he examined the patch of blood on the kitchen cabinet from Daryl's fist, "He treats her different than everyone else, maybe she thought he'd listen to her."

"Yeah, but she's asking him not to be angry that she's possibly risking her life," Shane argued with an eye-roll, "It ain't like she's telling him to calm down because she wants to shower first in the morning or something."

Glenn snorted.

"Over the last few days I've kind of gotten the impression that they don't really do separate showers," he said with a laugh.

"Lucky guy, she's gotta be one of the prettiest things I've seen in a long time," Shane said with a shake of his head, "And that body, damn."

"Don't let Daryl hear you saying that," warned Rick with a serious look. Shane coughed nervously.

"Hell no," he said vehemently, "That guy's coiled tight and just waiting to explode at anything that tickles him the wrong way. I'm not going anywhere near that."

"Hey come on, he's a good guy," said Glenn with annoyance obvious in his voice, "He's just been through a hell of a lot more shit than any of us."

Shane had the decency to look ashamed.

"Yeah I know," he mumbled, "Lori told me and Rick some of the stuff that Lyla shared with the women when she first got here. It's fucked up. Did you know that Merle killed their bastard father after he nearly beat Daryl to death when he was just a kid? If there was ever a reason for justified murder I'd say that takes the cake."

Rick nodded with a grim face and Glenn looked utterly gob smacked.

"That's what happened?" he gaped, "I mean, we all saw those scars and Lyla told me he had some trust issues but I didn't know it was that messed up. Merle really killed their dad?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" asked Rick as he met Glenn's horrified gaze, "You saw that way Merle was always hovering around Daryl like some overprotective mother, making sure he was ok. Lyla does it too, she's just better at pretending she isn't."

"Guy's gotta be carrying around a load of baggage with him," Shane reasoned, "Can't be easy for someone to deal with."

Rick shook his head.

"I think she's got him figured out pretty good. Always seems to know what to do with him."

"Man, just, oh man," said a very pale and nauseated looking Glenn, "I guess I understand why he's so temperamental all the time."

"Yeah, I'd probably be the same way if that shit happened to me," admitted Shane. Then he chuckled a little, "But I ain't going to pretend that he wasn't ten times easier to deal with when he was pumped full of morphine."

This elicited small smiles and laughs from the other two.

"No one's arguing with you there," said Rick as they exited the room.

Lyla hummed contentedly as she made her way through the sparse woods on the edge of Daryl's property. She'd managed to catch a couple of squirrels and two rabbits in a couple of hours and she was feeling pretty smug about her hunting capabilities. She lifted her gaze from the ground as she cleared the last of the trees and hopped the chain-link fence. Her gait faltered when her eyes met the harsh glare directed at her from her boyfriend, who was facing her on a chair in the yard with Bowie rolling around in the grass next to him. She gulped nervously and quickened her pace as she headed toward him.

Lyla expected Daryl to be ticked off at her for going out on her own, but he looked downright furious. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that they were shaking, and as she stopped in front of him she saw that the knuckles on his right hand were bruised and bloody. Lyla furrowed her eyebrows in worry as she reached for Daryl's torn up hand. She had barely touched it when he suddenly ripped it away from her grasp and stood up with a wince. Lyla stared in shock at him as he stood fuming in front of her with his chest heaving up and down. He kicked over the chair violently and stormed off towards the edge of the woods with his hands fisted in his recently cut hair.

"Daryl!" Lyla shouted as she gaped at his behavior. He was completely overreacting. Obviously there was always the chance of running into some walkers in the woods, but Lyla could protect herself and Daryl knew that. She dropped the crossbow to the ground gently and then followed after him hurriedly.

"Daryl come on," she pleaded as she placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. He didn't turn to face her, "I know I should've waited until you were up so I could tell you I was going, but the group needs fresh meat," she extended the string of small animals towards him, "And look I even got some rabbits."

Daryl whirled around with anger in his eyes and grabbed the rodents. He hurled them as far as he could then wrapped an arm around his waist as pain shot up his back.

"AH DON'T GIVE A FUCK 'BOUT THE DAMN RABBITS! WE'VE GOT ENOUGH DAMN FOOD IN THE BASEMENT," he screamed. He was rapidly turning red as he towered over her with his face inches from her own, "AND YA SHOULDN'T HAVE FUCKIN' GONE IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

Lyla cringed away from him with wide eyes. She had never seen him this angry before and she was at a loss for words. His chest was heaving and a vein was throbbing in his neck. His lips were turned up in a snarl and his blue eyes were bright with fury. Lyla heard the back door open but she didn't turn away from her boyfriend.

"Daryl…" she breathed as she stared up at him, "Why are you being like this I don't understand."

He snorted derisively and shook his head while sneering at her.

"Nah, ya wouldn't would ya Lyla?"

Now it was her turn to get angry. He had no right to talk to her like that when she did nothing wrong. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes.

"It means that ya weren't fuckin' thinkin' about anybody but yer damn self!" he yelled as he threw his hand up in the air. Lyla's jaw dropped in astonishment.

"Are you fucking kidding me Daryl? I went out to get food for everyone not just my fucking self!"

Daryl didn't back down in the slightest, he just shook his head at her and pushed past her. Lyla whipped around and pursued him closely as he stormed back towards the house. Her golden hair fanned out behind her as she practically jogged to keep up with his long strides and frenzied pace. Only then did she realize that the others had come outside when the yelling had started and now they were standing nervously in the yard. Daryl paid no attention to them as he ascended the stairs and crossed the porch to the back door.

"DARYL!" Lyla screamed as his hand closed around the doorknob. He jerked around swiftly and flinched as another stab of pain laced through his back. Lyla didn't notice his discomfort through her own anger, "What the fuck is your problem?"

Daryl's eyes widened comically before rage once again dominated his face.

"MY FUCKIN' PROBLEM?!" he bellowed. His accent was getting more and more pronounced, "Ah ain't th' one who fuckin' ran off inta th' woods alone withou' thinkin' 'bout the fuckin' geeks goddammit!"

Lyla rolled her eyes and huffed, which only incensed Daryl further.

"I took your crossbow Daryl, I knew I'd be fine."

Daryl growled before screaming even louder.

"SHUT UP! NO, YA FUCKIN" DIDN'T! YA HAD NO WAY OF KNOWIN' WHAT COULD HAPPEN IN TH' FUCKIN' WOODS AND YA FUCKIN' WENT ANYWAY!"

He strode over to her and grabbed her upper arms tightly. Lyla was shocked into silence once more by his raw intensity and fury as he continued his rant.

"YA COULD BE FUCKIN' LYIN' DEAD ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW WITH GEEKS CHEWIN' ON YA! AND WHERE WOULD THAT LEAVE ME LYLA, HUH? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD AH DO THEN?"

He shook her roughly and Lyla gasped as she felt the blood drain from her face. Daryl turned away and stalked to the door. He opened the door then paused to look back at his girlfriend. His eyes were crazed.

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD FOR FOUR FUCKIN' MONTHS LYLA, SO THINK 'BOUT THAT NEXT TIME YA WANNA RISK YER LIFE FOR NO FUCKIN' REASON BECAUSE AH AIN'T FUCKIN' GOIN' THROUGH THAT SHIT AGAIN!"

With that he disappeared into the house and slammed the back door so hard that the window shattered. Lyla flinched as the glass clattered against the wooden porch. She raised both of her hands to her mouth to stifle the sobs that were threatening to escape. Daryl had been scared, that's why he was so upset. Lyla trembled as she realized that they had never really spoken about what it was like for both of them during their time apart. Lyla had the hope that Daryl was alive somewhere driving her to survive and keep moving, but Daryl had been sure she was dead. She couldn't imagine being in his position. She was one of the two people he cared about in the world and he lost the other only a few days ago. He was injured and emotionally devastated from the recent loss of his brother; why the hell had she thought it would be a good idea to run off on him when it wasn't even necessary? She could've waited for him to heal and then gone hunting with him; they had enough food for days already. Daryl had gone hunting before but it was when they had absolutely no food and he made sure to tell her before he left. She hadn't even given him that courtesy.

Lyla jumped when she felt a warm hand touch her shoulder. Lori shushed the pale girl and smiled comfortingly. The others were standing on various parts of the deck anxiously. No one wanted to go into the house with Daryl being the way he was.

"It's alright sweetie," she said soothingly, "Everything will be fine."

Lyla shook her head frantically. Her green eyes were full of tears.

"No, no it's not ok," she gasped, "He's completely right, I shouldn't have done that. I just-I didn't think about the way it would affect him."

She stumbled over to the back door and fumbled with the doorknob for a moment before entering the house. An awkward silence fell over the people still on the deck.

Lyla took shuddering breaths as she ran up the stairs unsteadily. She hesitated as she approached the door to the bedroom and stared at the closed door nervously. Daryl had never been this mad at her before and the thought of how this whole thing might turn out scared Lyla senseless. She knew he had every right to be pissed at her, but the intensity of his anger had shocked her greatly. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door slowly.

Daryl was sitting on the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He didn't look up as she walked in. Lyla walked over to the big bed and sat down gingerly beside him. He still didn't acknowledge her presence at all. She reached out a hand towards him but then thought twice about the action and dropped it back to her lap.

"I'm sorry," she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, "What I did wasn't fair to you. I didn't think about how you would feel and I should've."

She saw his form unstiffen slightly and took it as a sign that he was listening to what she was saying. She gently placed her hand over one of his and rested her forehead against his shoulder. He practically melted at her touch and he let out a long exhale before raising his head to look at her. His bloodshot blue eyes were filled with desperation as he looked at her earnestly.

"Ya can't fuckin' do that to me Lyla," he said hoarsely. He sounded completely exhausted and drained emotionally. The angry energy that he was filled with before had all but disappeared, "And right after we found each other again. S'too soon."

Lyla nodded hurriedly as she clasped his large hand tightly.

"I know, I'm so sorry."

Daryl gripped his short hair tightly with his free hand. He looked slightly deranged.

"Ah don't wanna live without ya again. Just-just promise me ya won't run off or put yerself in danger like that alright?"

"I promise," breathed Lyla as she ran her hand up and down his arm soothingly. The last of the tension finally left his body at her words and he pulled her to him tightly. Lyla gripped the top of his arms and pressed her face into his warm neck. She felt his breath washed over her hair as he pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him.

"Ah'm sorry fer yelling at ya," he mumbled sheepishly, "Shouldn't have done that. Ya looked scared."

Lyla pulled back and stared at him as she touched his clean-shaven face with one hand. His eyes were following hers warily, as if expecting her to begin shouting.

"It's ok," she replied with a small smile, "You were upset, I understand. You've never shouted at me like that before I was just a little taken aback."

She dropped her gaze to his bloodied hand on her hip and picked it up gently.

"When did this happen?" she murmured as she examined the wounds. Daryl dropped his head to her shoulder.

"After Ah read yer note," he admitted ruefully. Lyla let out a soft groan.

"Don't do things like this to yourself Daryl," she chided softly, "No matter how upset or mad you are with anyone, including me, don't hurt yourself."

"Wasn't thinkin' straight," he mumbled into her shoulder. Lyla sighed and ran a hand through his hair as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. They stayed still for another minute before she pushed herself off of his lap and stood up.

"Come on," she said while smoothing down her shirt, "I want to check on your back and then fix up your hand."

Daryl groaned and tugged her back towards him by her shorts. He rested his head in between her breasts and sighed deeply. Lyla rolled her eyes and pushed him back by his broad shoulders. She laughed softly as she took in his messy hair and grumpy expression.

"We'll have lots of fun in our bed later, but right now you need to come downstairs so I can patch you up and show the others that you haven't murdered me," she joked.

Daryl cursed as he flopped back down on the bed. Lyla chuckled and pulled him up by his uninjured hand. He grumbled but allowed her to drag him out of the room and down the stairs. Once they reached the kitchen Lyla stepped around so that she was behind him and hiked up his t-shirt. She ghosted her fingers over all of the healing cuts and assessed their progress before gently pulling the fabric back down.

"Your back looks good. You didn't pull any more stitches."

"When can ya take them out?" asked Daryl as he turned to face her. Lyla scrunched up her freckled nose in concentration.

"Probably another week and a half," she answered honestly, "Maybe sooner for some of the smaller cuts."

Daryl nodded and scratched at his face. He wasn't used to the lack of stubble yet. His eyes snapped back to Lyla as she swatted his side lightly and nudged him towards the kitchen table.

"Sit," she ordered. He complied immediately, still feeling guilty about screaming at her before. She left the room and returned within a minute carrying the bag of medical supplies. She dragged a chair in front of his and plopped down on it. Daryl offered her his hand without her having to ask and Lyla smiled slightly at him in response. He hissed as she gently moved his bloodied fingers up and down.

"Sorry," she murmured before placing his hand on her bare knee and running her hands through her long hair. She spent a few more minutes looking over his hand before she let out a sharp breath and addressed her boyfriend.

"Well, two of your knuckles are fractured and you bruised the bones on the other two as far as I can tell."

Daryl bit his lip and met her green gaze nervously.

"Can ya fix it?" he asked hesitantly as he raised his hand to mouth to naw on his thumbnail.

"Yes," answered Lyla with an eye roll. She lowered his hand from his mouth and placed it between her knees. He glared at her without any real venom and she smiled before continuing, "You'll need to wear a splint for a week or two, the fractures are only hairline, and luckily I still have the one you had to wear when you punched another kitchen surface a few years ago."

Lyla was smiling cheekily and Daryl couldn't help it as half of his mouth twitched up in a grin.

"Smart-ass," he chuckled as he leaned forward and captured her plump lips with his. Lyla giggled into his mouth as he removed his hand from her knees and placed it behind her head. He pulled her forward and deepened the kiss just as the back door opened. Daryl dropped his head with a huff as Lyla snapped her head around and saw Lori standing halfway into the kitchen with her hand on the doorknob.

"Sorry!" the older woman exclaimed as she saw the proximity between the couple, "I was just wondering if everything was ok."

"Mind yer own damn business," muttered Daryl as he stared harshly at the ground. He let out a strangled noise of protest as Lyla pushed his face with her hand.

"She's just being nice," she scolded before looking back at Lori again, "Everything is great. How's everyone else doing?"

Lyla had dropped her gaze back to Daryl's injured hand as she spoke. She squirted some saline solution over the cut knuckles and Daryl jerked his hand involuntarily.

"The group is getting pretty hungry," answered Lori as Lyla bandaged up the wounds on her boyfriend's hand. She stepped into the kitchen and held up a steaming red bucket, "Carol and I thought we'd cook dinner tonight as a thank you for letting us stay here."

"Thanks Lori," Lyla tossed over her shoulder cheerfully, "And you don't need to thank us, any of you would do the same."

Daryl simply eyed the woman warily as Lyla fitted the brace to his hand.

"What's that?" he grunted with a nod towards the bucket. Lori smiled and tilted it forward so he could see inside.

"The kills that Lyla caught this morning. They should go well in a stew with some of the canned beans and vegetables," she said with a shrug.

"Ya skinned 'em?" asked Daryl as he tried to keep from looking too impressed. Lori gave the bucket a little shake.

"I don't think I did the cleanest job," reasoned Lori, "But no one will be able to tell once it's all chopped up."

Daryl nodded with a shrewd look on his face; maybe Lori wasn't as thin-skinned as he initially thought she was.

The group sat around the campfire that they had constructed earlier as they ate the rabbit and squirrel stew. After Lyla had finished fitting the brace to Daryl's hand, she had gone into the basement and brought up a case of warm but not yet expired beer. Everyone, especially the men, had been more than happy when Lyla dragged out the beverages to the fire, everyone except Daryl that is. Lyla had strictly forbidden him from drinking any alcohol due to the head injury he had sustained in the CDC explosion. She was almost positive that he didn't have a concussion, but she didn't want to take any chances. She did feel slightly guilty though as she sipped her beer from his side. His arm was draped over her thin shoulders and she was leaning heavily into him with one leg thrown in between both of his jean-clad ones.

The others were laughing as they talked and ate in the grass. The night was still warm and everyone was enjoying the food and the protection that the fence offered. Even Bowie was rolling around in the grass from his spot next to Daryl. Lyla giggled as she watched the fat, black cat purr and stretch against Daryl's legs. She rested her head against Daryl's shoulder and sighed in contentment. Daryl looked at her sideways and raised his hand to brush the back of her neck.

"Y'all right?" he murmured huskily, "Ya didn' eat much today and yer drinkin'."

Lyla nodded slowly and pushed her cheek against his warm chest.

"Just tired," she whispered lazily, "The last few days have really taken it out of me."

Daryl dropped his head and pressed his nose into her soft hair. Lyla giggled again drunkenly and lifted her face to kiss him sloppily. Daryl kissed her back for a second then gently pushed her away by the shoulder. She stared at him in confusion for a moment but he just grabbed her hand and pulled her up with him as he stood.

"Come on," he said as he drew her tightly against him, "Yer practically dead on yer feet."

Lyla mumbled something unintelligible and wrapped both her arms around his middle. Daryl hissed a little as her arms brushed against his stitched wounds. He repositioned her arms while ignoring her protestations and started back towards the house. They were almost to the door when Rick's voice rang through the air.

"Hey Lyla can I talk to you for a minute?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Why?" he asked harshly.

Rick opened his mouth to answer but Lyla cut him off.

"Daryl it's fine," she said with a smile, "Go upstairs, I'll be up in a minute."

Daryl stared between the two for a minute then threw his hands up and stalked through the back door. Lyla shook her head at his retreating back before turning back to Rick. She swayed for a second at the spin but righted herself quickly.

"What's up Rick?"

The cop scratched the back of his head nervously and wouldn't meet her eyes. Lyla started to get nervous.

"What is it Rick?" she implored.

He opened his mouth then shut it. He seemed to be struggling to put his thoughts into words. He reached into his back pocket and held out what looked like a piece of paper to her. Lyla stared at him shrewdly.

"I found this about an hour ago," he explained in a low voice while looking around to see if anyone was listening, "I was in the basement looking for a flashlight in one of the drawers and this was in there. I didn't want anyone else to come across it."

"What is it?" Lyla asked as she reached out a hand for the paper with trepidation. Rick shook his head and shoved the item into her hand. Lyla brought it up to her face and stifled a gasp as she saw what it was. It wasn't a piece of paper; it was a photograph. It showed what was clearly Daryl as a teenager in a white bed and a much younger and dark-haired Merle standing next to him with his massive arms crossed in a protective stance. This wasn't what made Lyla gasp though, that would be the state that Daryl was in. The right side of his young face was covered in a collection of mottled blue and purple skin, his upper lip was stitched in two places, his left arm was in a sturdy cast, and thick white bandages wrapped around his bare chest. The beginnings of a nasty green and yellow bruise could be seen creeping out from under the edges of the large bandages. The thing that disturbed Lyla the most was the way his dead blue eyes were staring at the camera completely devoid of emotion. It was the same look that Daryl had that day when he ran into his dad's friend and the other times something triggered a flashback for him.

Lyla let out a sharp, quick breath and fought against the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. She swallowed thickly and shoved the picture into her back pocket with shaky hands.

"Did anyone else see this?" asked Lyla lowly. Rick shook his head.

"No, and I don't plan on telling anyone either."

Lyla nodded her head and wiped her fingers under her wet green eyes.

"Thanks Rick, I, uh, I'm going to go upstairs."

"You need anything at all you just ask," said Rick as he gripped her shoulder tightly, "I mean it."

With that he strode back towards the fire and left Lyla standing near the porch in the dark. She was taking deep, shuddering breaths and gripping her sides as she thought about the horrible picture. It had to have been taken shortly after Merle returned judging by the state Daryl was in, but why would someone feel the need to capture the image like that? Just looking at it made her sick to the stomach. She and Daryl had never spoken about what happened to him. She only got bits and pieces from him, and Merle had never gone into detail even when he told her the story.

Lyla didn't know what to do and she really wished that someone else was there to help her decide, but she was on her own when it came to Daryl. The others were starting to see that he wasn't exactly like his older brother, but they were nowhere close to caring about him deeply like she did. She continued to be plagued by indecision as she walked into the house and up the stairs. When she reached the bedroom door she had decided to show Daryl the picture and ask him about it. He shouldn't have to deal with the weight of his past alone anymore, not while she was there and willing to help shoulder the burden.

Lyla paused at the door and removed the photo from her pocket. She took a deep breath and pushed the heavy wood inward. Daryl was on her the second she crossed the threshold and her gasp of shock was cut off as his hot lips attacked hers. His large hands drew her waist against his as he began to back towards the bed. Lyla pushed him back for a moment and stared up at him panting.

"Daryl, wait," she said unevenly. His lust-filled eyes were studying her closely, "I need to talk to you about something."

His expression turned incredulous and Lyla would have laughed if her mind weren't so preoccupied with such a somber matter.

"Jesus Lyla, can't it wait till the mornin'?" he practically begged, "Ya promised me sex tonight and Ah plan on holdin' ya to that. We both know that we aren't gunna be here for long and Ah ain't gunna waste the opportunity to fuck in our own bed every damn chance we get."

Lyla couldn't stop her lips from quirking into a slight smile at the determination in his voice. She was feeling the same desperate longing and the corners of her vision were starting to turn red. No harm would come from setting aside the conversation about the picture to tomorrow, and she didn't want to ruin Daryl's mood when he looked so happy for once. As that thought crossed her mind, Lyla almost immediately felt the lust that she had been holding back course through her body. She nearly flung herself at him and the picture fluttered to the floor forgotten. His arms circled her back as her hands went to his hair. Her fingers slid through the recently cut strands and she pulled sharply, causing Daryl to let out a strangled moan into her mouth. Lyla felt the back of her knees hit the soft bed and then he was lowering her carefully onto it. Daryl grabbed the back of his t-shirt and yanked it over his head, hissing slightly as his stitches pulled.

"Careful," panted Lyla as she began to undo his belt. She pushed down his jeans when she was done and giggled when she saw that he wasn't wearing any boxers. Daryl grunted and kicked off his pants before starting on the buttons on Lyla's shirt. He practically ripped it off of her and then pushed her back so she was lying on her back. He pulled off her shorts and underwear in one motion and then placed his body on top of hers. Lyla gripped his muscular arms as he kissed her roughly down her neck. She moaned as his length brushed against her wetness and then plunge inside of her. Neither of them moved for a moment and Daryl kept his face buried in her neck. Lyla placed a hand on his face and lifted to her own.

"Go slowly," she warned as Daryl's bright blue eyes met her green ones, "I don't want to stitch you up again."

Daryl grinned and kissed her passionately before leaning his forehead against hers. He maintained eye contact as he began to thrust into her. Lyla let out a throaty gasp and lifted her hips to meet his. Daryl listened to her warning and moved slowly as she gripped his sides tightly. He braced himself on his elbows to keep most of his weight off of her and kept his forehead pressed to hers until they were both carried over the edge by each other's climaxes. Daryl grunted and partially rolled off of Lyla to lie on his side facing her as he breathed heavily.

Once both of their chests stopped heaving, Daryl tugged her body toward his until she was flush against him. He sighed into her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"Ah'm gunna miss this," he mumbled sleepily. Lyla drew back slightly so she could look at him.

"Miss what?" she asked confusedly.

"The house, this bed, everything else that's here," he answered softly as he ran the hand with the brace on it up and down her arm, "Wish we could stay but we all know it's too fuckin' close to Atlanta. We'd be fucked once all the geeks there run outta food and start leavin' the city."

Lyla nodded while tracing the tattoo on his chest.

"When do you think we should leave?" she said without meeting his eyes.

"Soon as ya take all ma stitches out. Ah can deal with ma hand the way it is but Ah need to be able to move around without ma whole damn back burstin' open."

Lyla grimaced at that description and rolled onto her back. Daryl propped his chin on her shoulder and spread his uninjured hand over one side of her hip. She turned her head towards his.

"Please don't let that happen Daryl," Lyla groaned. Daryl chuckled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"Ah'll try ma hardest yank," he said wryly.

Lyla rolled her eyes and lightly swatted the back of his head.

"I mean it."

She stifled a yawn against the back of her hand as she spoke. Daryl saw it and drew the covers over their bodies before pulling her against him once more since the night was fairly chilly. Lyla snuggled into his bare chest and closed her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered as blackness started to cloud her vision. Daryl tried to pull her even closer to him.

"Ah love ya too, always will no matter how Ah might act. Remember that Lyla."

Lyla nodded sleepily against his chest and within seconds they were both in a heavy sleep.

**Thanks sooooo much for reading guys I love you all! I need some help because I'm having a bit of writer's block so it would be really helpful if you guys gave me some ideas for scenes or a direction you want the story to go in from this point. Anything will help! Thanks again!**


	10. Water Games and Late Night Rage

**dislclaimer: I do not own any part of the walking dead**

**AN: Sorry that it took me over a week to update again; chem has been taking up a lot of my time! Here is chapter 10!**

"Fuck!"

Lyla winced as Daryl cursed for the tenth time since she had started removing the stitches in his back.

"Hold still," she ordered as she pulled the black string from his skin, "This is the last one."

Daryl groaned but didn't move a muscle. He was sitting on the edge of the tub in his and Lyla's bathroom with his back to her. It had been almost two weeks since the group had first arrived at the house. The canned food was all but gone and Lyla had been shooting squirrels on the edge of the property with Daryl's crossbow to keep the group going. Daryl still couldn't go hunting for bigger game because his hand brace made it impossible for him to pull back the cord on the bow. Everyone was getting pretty antsy after being in the same place for so long, especially after Rick had to dispatch a walker along the fence the day before. The group was in agreement that it was time to move on and head toward Fort Bennet like they had originally planned to do after the CDC.

"There we go," muttered Lyla as she cut the last stitch and used the tweezers to pull it out.

Daryl blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders. He moaned in gratification at finally being able to move without the thread in his back pulling painfully. Lyla smirked as her boyfriend stretched like a cat. She ran her hand across his upper back and then turned to put away the medical supplies. As she put the saline solution back in the bag, her hand brushed against paper and her stomach dropped. It was the photograph that Rick had found in the beginning of their stay. She thought about showing the picture to Daryl every morning, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Daryl had been in such a good mood lately and she didn't want to be the one to ruin it. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair in distress; she didn't know what to do about the situation but something needed to be done before Daryl found the picture in her things. He wouldn't take it well if he knew she was holding onto it without his knowledge.

Lyla shrieked and lost her train of thought as two muscular arms wrapped themselves around her midsection and hoisted her into the air. She felt Daryl's laughter before she heard it due to her back being pressed tightly against his broad chest.

"Feels fuckin' good to finally be able to pick ya up without tearin' the skin on ma back," he said as he nuzzled her hair from behind and started to walk towards the hallway with Lyla still lifted off the floor. She giggled and gripped his arms with her hands.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he started to descend the stairs. He huffed and his breath tickled the back of her neck that was exposed by her messy ponytail.

"We're gunna shove out in the mornin' and Ah wanna enjoy bein' on ma property today. Probably gunna be the last time we ever see this place ya know?"

Lyla nodded as they reached the bottom of the stairs and paused; everyone else was sitting around the living room staring at the couple. Daryl promptly dropped Lyla and grumbled something under his breath. She rolled her eyes at his back as he retreated into the kitchen.

"Ah'll be outside!" he tossed over his shoulder and the sound of the back door swinging open and closed reverberated throughout the small house.

"Two weeks together in the same house and he's still hasn't relaxed around us?" asked Dale with a hint of a smirk.

"The word relaxed isn't in his dictionary," scoffed Lyla as she readjusted her shirt and sat on the edge of one of the footstools near Rick, "The man sleeps with a knife under his pillow."

"Does he really?" asked Shane with a laugh.

"You bet," answered Lyla exasperatedly, "I can't tell you how many times I woke up to that monster of a hunting knife shoved in my face when we first got together."

"And you stayed with him?" inquired Andrea in an incredulous voice.

"What can I say? It happened so often it became endearing."

T-dog guffawed loudly at her sarcastic tone. Lyla quirked a smile in his direction before clapping her hands and standing up.

"Well, we're going to lounge around in the yard all day and save our energy for tomorrow. Everyone's welcome to join us."

She waved and exited the house. The others were silent for a moment then Glenn spoke hesitantly.

"Do-do you guys think they'll be, uh, "busy" if we go outside?"

"Oh that's ridiculous," protested Lori with her hands thrown up in the air, "Admittedly they've been very "busy" while we've been here, but honestly they're out in the open! They won't do anything!"

The adults laughed at the innuendo for sex that they had to use in front of Carl and Sophia, both of whom were looking confused like usual when the conversation turned to Daryl and Lyla's relationship.

"Come on people," chuckled Rick, "We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow and we could use a nice relaxing day before that. It's too nice outside to stay in the house on our last day here."

* * *

Daryl was sitting cross-legged in the long grass with Lyla splayed on her stomach next to him. She was propped up on her elbows and leafing through one of her photo albums as he lightly drew patterns on her grey tank top clad back. Her wavy hair was tossed over one shoulder and the strong sunlight turned it a gleaming gold. Her long, tan legs were kicking absently in their cut-off shorts as she continued flipping through the pages, giggling every now and then. Daryl removed his hand from the small of her back and dragged it through his hair. He still wasn't used to the shorter length but he was happy that Lyla had finally cut it because the heat was sweltering. His plaid sleeve-less shirt was sticking to his sweaty back and his legs felt like they were cooking in his jeans.

The others were spread out all around the large plot of land in similar positions. Everyone was taking one last chance to spend time with each other and have fun before they headed into the unknown once more.

Lyla burst into laughter and rolled off of her stomach as she shook uncontrollably. Daryl raised an eyebrow at her as she clutched her middle and she nodded to the open book on the ground in response. He reached forward to pick it up and looked at the picture that had made her explode like that. He didn't have nearly the same reaction that his girlfriend did, but when he saw the picture he chuckled and flopped onto his back next to her. It was one taken about two years ago on St. Patrick's Day, which was Lyla's favorite holiday besides Oktoberfest, and it usually wound up being one of their craziest nights of the year. The photo showed an obviously inebriated Daryl and a very messy Lyla in their favorite bar. Daryl was holding Lyla up on his side with one arm under her butt and her legs wrapped around his waist. She was wearing a short green dress that was hiked up around the tops of her thighs and a grin was visible on her lips, which were pressed against his cheek. Daryl's shirt was unbuttoned and pushed to his sides. He was flipping off the camera with his free hand and grinning wildly. Both of them looked completely drunk and disheveled.

"That was a good one that year wasn't it," he said with a snort as he took the picture out of the book and held it over their heads so Lyla could see as well. She tucked her head into his shoulder while hiccupping slightly from her earlier laughter.

"Remember-remember," she gasped through bouts if giggles, "They banned us from the bar for a week because of our, what was it they said exactly, oh right, because of our indecent behavior."

Daryl snickered as he slid the photo back into the album. He tugged on a piece of her hair gently.

"We did almost fuck in one of the booths didn't we?"

"Hell if I know," replied Lyla with a sharp exhale, "Look at picture! Does that look like someone who remembers her night?"

"Well Ah remember what we did later that night," Daryl said in a low, suggestive voice. Lyla grinned and lifted her head to look at him.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged with a look of mock confusion on her face, "You might have to remind me what happened because I seem to be blanking."

Daryl grinned and suddenly rolled on top of her. He pulled her in for a long searing kiss. He heard Shane whistling from nearby so he raised a hand to flip him off and then rolled again so Lyla was lying on his chest. She snuggled her face into his neck and sighed.

"I miss our old life," she murmured sadly as his arms squeezed her, "I miss going to bar when you got home, I miss you coming to the hospital for lunch, I miss our weekends off when we didn't even have to leave our house or deal with other people."

Daryl hugged her tighter.

"Ah know darlin', me too."

"I miss my parents."

Her voice was so quiet that Daryl wouldn't have known that she had spoken if he hadn't felt her breath against his neck. He tried to pull her even closer to him and kissed the top of her head.

"If Ah had to bet on anyone other than Merle to survive this thing it'd be yer daddy. Man's fuckin' scary as shit. He's probably got yer mom and those big dogs of his holed up in their attic or something."

Lyla laughed weakly and drew circles on his chest.

"I guess you're right," she said hopefully, "He always had that iron-will."

"Damn straight," asserted Daryl with a nod. Lyla folded her hands and rested her chin on her clasped fingers. She opened her mouth to say something but quickly shut it when she saw Carl and Sophia standing a few feet away looking at them nervously. She scrambled off of Daryl quickly and nudged his side. He turned his head and sat up when he saw the kids. Lyla smiled at both of them.

"What's up guys?"

The two exchanged a look and Sophia poked Carl in his ribs. He yelped and glared at her before staring at the grass near Lyla's legs.

"Our moms are making us do geometry homework but we don't get it. You-you said Mr. Dixon was good at math and me and Sophia were wondering if he could help us?"

Daryl squinted at the young boy and leaned back on his hands.

"Don't call me Mr. Dixon," he grunted. Carl nodded quickly with a slightly scared expression on his face. Daryl's eyes widened slightly.

"Calm down kid, Ah ain't gunna bite, and sure Ah'll help ya. Come over here and show me what ya got."

Sophia immediately sat down right next to him and put her notebook on the ground in front of her. Lyla stood up so Carl could sit on her boyfriend's other side. He handed Daryl his notebook and a pencil. Daryl looked at it for a few seconds then gave it back.

"Alright," he said, "Looks like yer doing transformations. That means ya gotta think about how that shapes gunna look if ya flip it over the axis see. Then ya gotta…"

Lyla smiled and walked over to Lori and Rick who were sitting next to each other on a log. She sat down next to Rick and the three of them stared at the redneck and the two children. Daryl was sitting cross-legged between the two and his head was hanging down as he scribbled something on one of the notebooks and showed it to the kids. His hand accidentally brushed against Sophia's and both of them shied away from the contact. Lyla frowned.

"How well did you guys know Carol's husband?" she asked the other two bluntly. Lori gave her a shrewd look and Rick squeezed his wife's shoulder comfortingly.

"Not well," he admitted as he scratched the back of his head, "But enough to know that he smacked her around once in a while."

Lyla nodded as if that was the answer she'd been expecting. Something had been nagging her about Sophia, and she was finally starting to put the pieces together as she watched the young girl interact with Daryl. Their behavior was the same; it was like watching mirror images. They both constantly looked like they were trying to withdraw into themselves, and the way they both jumped at physical contact was a clear indicator of some type of trauma.

"Do you know if he ever hit Sophia too?" she asked and Lori drew in a sharp breath. The older woman looked at her and swallowed audibly.

"We've never known for sure, but a lot of us have had suspicions. Of course we never wanted to ask Carol about it," she said in a low voice, "Why do you ask?"

Lyla didn't say anything and gestured towards Daryl and the kids. Lori looked confused but Rick nodded in understanding.

"I've been noticing that too lately," he mumbled with his eyes focused on the trio. Daryl had just said something to Carl that made the boy burst into laughter. Lori still looked bewildered.

"What are you two talking about?"

Rick answered her without tearing his eyes away from his laughing son.

"Abused children can almost always be distinguished by certain markers that they teach cops to recognize. I imagine that you also know about them given that you worked in a hospital Lyla?"

Lyla nodded her head as Lori realized what they were implying with a sickened look.

"So," she began unsteadily, "Daryl and Sophia both display these-these markers then?"

"Daryl's practically right out of a psychology textbook," Lyla replied with her voice nearly shaking with anger, "His inability to trust or form relationships with others, his lack of self-worth and feeling of inadequacy, he has trouble controlling his emotions, and he can't stand to be touched, even by me sometimes. Not to mention the panic attack he had two weeks ago in Atlanta. And the physical evidence is visible enough for anyone to see all over his body."

Her hands had formed fists and her nails were digging painfully into her palms. Lori was biting her lip with watery eyes.

"That's just…that's just all so awful," she said breathlessly.

Lyla shook her head in anger and wiped at her eyes.

"I noticed it within five minutes of meeting him," she muttered, "Sophia is more subtle, but I'd expect that since she wasn't submitted to abuse for as long as Daryl was, and I'm sure it wasn't as intense. Carol was there for her too, Daryl was alone with that fucking bastard for nearly ten years."

Rick wrapped an arm around her shoulder and Lori reached across her husband to pat her knee. Some of Lyla's sudden anger melted away at their touch and she was left feeling exhausted.

"Sorry for getting so heated," she apologized, "It's just that the topic hadn't come up for a few years before this zombie clusterfuck happened, and lately it seems like it's invading our life from every direction."

"You have nothing to apologize for sweetheart," argued Lori intensely, "Just hearing about Daryl's past from you makes me want to hug him senseless. Of course I'd probably get a knife in the back if I ever tried."

Her attempt to lighten the mood worked and Lyla gave her a watery chuckle.

"Probably," she admitted as she squinted into the harsh sunlight.

The three chatted about lighter things for a few minutes before Carl ran over to them clutching his notebook to his small chest. Daryl was following him warily and Sophia was trailing slightly behind him.

"Mom! Dad!" Carl yelled excitedly, "Can I go swimming? Daryl says there's a river in the woods and he would take Sophia and me if it was ok with you. Please? It's so hot today."

Lyla and Rick laughed at Carl's rushed words, all spoken without taking a breath. Lori smiled at her son.

"Did you finish your homework?"

"What? Oh yeah, it's done. I understand it now," he said with a wave of his hand. Lori raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Daryl's really smart and he showed us a really easy way of doing it."

Daryl muttered something under his breath at that statement and Lyla saw that his ears were slightly red. She smirked at his embarrassment and got up to stand at his side. She grabbed his hand, seeking some physical comfort after her emotional conversation, and intertwined their fingers together. Daryl's head dropped to stare at their hands but then snapped it back up as Lori addressed him.

"How far away is the stream Daryl?" she asked kindly.

"'Bout a quarter of a mile east of here," he said as he pushed his brown hair off of his forehead. His sweat made it stick straight out and Lyla laughed internally at the sight of it as he continued speaking with Lori, "Should be fine. I've got ma knife just in case, and Ah'll take Lyla with us so she can use the Horton if we run inta anything."

Lyla nodded and excused herself so she could grab the crossbow and put a bathing suit on. She quickly threw on a black bikini under her clothes, swung the bow over her back, and then made her way back outside. It looked like the kids had won over both Lori and Carol to the idea, as they were both holding large towels and standing near Daryl who was biting his thumbnail nervously. He clearly wasn't comfortable making small talk with just the kids. Sophia and Carl didn't look like they cared though; Lyla was really surprised to see that the girl was gripping the side of her boyfriend's shirt with one small hand. Lori, Carol, and Rick also seemed to notice and they were speaking in hushed voices a little ways away while throwing smiles in the direction of the redneck. Lyla chuckled and continued to make her way over to Daryl.

He looked almost comically relieved when she reached him and gave her a pointed look before furtively gesturing to Sophia's fist. Lyla smirked lightly.

"Sophia and Carl, go hug your parents goodbye before we leave," she suggested. They both nodded and left to do what she said. Daryl let out a long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and then he slung his arm over Lyla's shoulder and drew her closer to him.

"Didn't think the girl was ever goin' to let go of me," he said lowly as she wrapped both of her arms around his waist.

"She trusts you," countered Lyla. Daryl looked slightly bewildered.

"Don' see why."

"Really?" asked Lyla incredulously as she pulled back to look at his face, "It makes sense that she does. You really don't notice the way she and you-"

Her speech was cut off as the two kids came scampering back towards them.

"We're ready!" Carl practically shouted in excited.

Lyla forced herself to smile and ruffled his hair. They would have to continue that conversation later.

"Well then come on kid, let's go!"

* * *

The cool water felt amazing as Lyla submerged herself completely under it. For the past half of an hour, her, Carl, and Sophia had been splashing around in the water playing various aquatic games. She loved being immature and playing with the other two, even if they were about fifteen years younger than her. Daryl chose not to partake in the activities and instead was leaning back on his arms on top of a large, flat rock. He was still fully clothed and his blue eyes were scanning the woods carefully for any threat. They hadn't seen a walker all day and Lyla thought it was time for Daryl to enjoy himself too. She stood up in the river and squeezed the water from her long hair before making her way over to her boyfriend.

His eyes followed the sway of her hips as she sauntered across the rock and dropped down next to him. Her chest was heaving in the small black bikini from all the swimming she'd done and Daryl licked his lips as he watched the swell of her breasts rise and fall steadily. Lyla quirked one eyebrow and smirked at him.

"Interested in joining me Dixon?" she asked in a voice full of mirth. She ran one of her bare feet slowly up his leg. Daryl half-glared at her and swallowed heavily.

"Cut that out yank," he huffed, "We got kids ten feet away."

"Cut what out?"

Lyla put on her best innocent face but Daryl saw right through it and he continued to glare at her. Lyla gave up the act and laughed loudly.

"I'll stop if you come in the water," she said playfully in a singsong voice. Daryl just rolled his eyes and continued to scan the woods.

"Don' wanna get wet," he muttered without looking at her. He received no response for a few seconds so he turned to look at her again. She was grinning wickedly at him and he immediately knew what she was going to do.

"No! Lyla, don' fuckin'-"

Daryl's attempts to stop her were futile and in the next instant her soaking wet body was on top of his. He could feel the water running off of her fit body and onto his clothing and skin. Lyla was pushing his body against the rock as she wrapped herself tightly around his body.

"Dammit Lyla," he groaned from underneath her. She just giggled and lifted her head slightly to kiss him deeply.

Daryl sighed as her tongue pushed into his mouth and her wet hair pooled on either side of his head. He lifted a hand to tangle in the damp waves when Carl suddenly screamed.

"DARYL! LYLA!"

Both of them shot up almost instantaneously and swiveled their heads towards the area where Carl's shout had come from. He was still in the water but Sophia was standing frozen on the riverbank. A walker was stumbling slowly towards from a spot about twenty yards away. Lyla quickly picked up the crossbow from where she had put in on the rock and scrambled to pull the cord back. To her horror, she found that her arms were too tired from swimming to apply the necessary strength. She cursed and then Daryl's hands were grabbing the weapon from her.

"You can't!" she protested vehemently while keeping an eye on the walker's progress. It was now about fifteen yards away from the scared little girl, "Your hand is still healing."

Daryl ignored her and quickly stripped the brace from his hand.

"Ain't got no choice. Won't be able to get there in time to take it out with a knife."

He sharply yanked back the cord with his hands and swore harshly as agonizing pain shot through his broken knuckles. He ignored it and brought the Horton up to aim. Not even five seconds later the walker was on the ground with a bolt in its head. Lyla let out a sigh of relief and started to make her way over to Sophia, who was still frozen. Lyla placed a hand on her shoulder when she reached her but the little girl didn't respond. She tried calling her name but there was still no response. Daryl stalked up beside her with Carl, both were dripping water, and looked at her with a questioning gaze. Lyla shook her head and gestured towards Sophia.

Daryl bit his lip and moved to squat in front of the young girl. He reached a hand out but then let it fall back to his side. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly then spoke.

"Yer ok girl. Ah wouldn't let no walker hurt ya. See? The geek didn't even get within ten yards of ya."

He leaned to the side and gestured at the dead walker behind him. As he did so, Lyla took notice of the angry red color that his previously broken knuckles had turned and she groaned internally. At this rate he would never heal properly.

"Come on Sophia," Daryl said lowly. It was the first time Lyla had ever heard him use the girl's name, "Let's get ya back to yer momma."

The little girl's bottom lip started trembling violently and then she burst into noisy sobs. Daryl stood up quickly, looking slightly startled, before Sophia threw her arms around his waist and cried into his wet shirt. He raised his hands above his shoulders and widened his eyes. His impression of a deer in headlights was one of the best that Lyla thought she'd ever seen. He looked like he wanted to bolt so she took matters into her own hands.

"Daryl," she chided softly as she shouldered the crossbow.

He seemed to understand her meaning and he hesitantly lowered his hands to pat the crying girls back. Lyla bit her lip to keep a laugh from escaping and dropped her free arm onto Carl's shoulders.

"What about you kid? Are you ok?" she asked.

Carl nodded his head quickly.

"I wasn't worried," he said with total confidence, "I knew you or Daryl would kill it."

"Damn straight," Lyla smirked as she started to make her way back towards the house. Despite Carl's proclaimed lack of fear, she kept her arm wrapped around his shoulder and received no protest from him.

"Lyla!" Daryl whispered harshly from behind her. She turned and saw that Sophia hadn't relinquished her hold on him and was still crying. Lyla rolled her eyes at her boyfriend and mimicked picking something big up in her arms. Daryl seemed apprehensive, but after a moment of hesitation he lifted the skinny girl to his waist. Sophia, in response, put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his strong shoulder. The sight of him holding a child in his arms stirred up an emotion in the pit of Lyla's stomach, but she couldn't quite put her finger on the feeling. She shook her head to clear it as Daryl strode past her and into the woods.

* * *

The quartet walked through the chain-link fence barely two minutes later to the stunned and confused gazes of the rest of the group. Carl, Sophia, and Lyla were still in only their bathing suits and Daryl was soaking wet in his clothing. The others ran to meet them somewhere in the middle of the yard. Carol looked nervously at her daughter, who still had Daryl in a vice like grip.

"What happened?" she asked anxiously, "Is everything ok?"

"Everythin's fine," Daryl assured her quickly, "Just had to put down a lone walker and yer girl got freaked."

Carol reached for Sophia but the young girl just hugged her arms tighter around Daryl's neck and he coughed a little as his air supply was cut off. Lyla could see how uncomfortable and panicked he was becoming with the situation so she quickly moved over to him to help. She placed one arm on Daryl's arm and the other on Sophia's back.

"Sophia, sweetheart, can you let go of Daryl now?" she said softly, "He hurt his hand again when he killed that walker and I need to fix it up alright?"

After a tense moment Sophia nodded into Daryl's neck and allowed Carol to pull her into her arms. Daryl backed away quickly and sidled up to Lyla. She smiled and took his larger hand in her own with a squeeze. They watched as Carol carried her daughter back into the house, and only then did Lyla feel Daryl completely relax next to her. He rubbed a hand over his face then looked up at the group surrounding him. Glenn, T-dog, and Shane were staring openly at various parts of Lyla's exposed body and when Daryl saw them a dark scowl came over his face. He pulled Lyla halfway behind him and glared at the three men harshly.

"Quit eye-fuckin' her ya assholes," he all but snarled before turning his back on them and addressing his smiling girlfriend, "Put yer damn clothes back on yank."

Lyla raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms with a slight smirk as the guilty party shuffled around awkwardly.

"First of all, I'm wearing a bathing suit so that does count as clothing," she quipped happily to the annoyance of Daryl. Then a slightly sheepish look came over her face, "And second, I left them at the river."

Daryl huffed and quickly made work of the buttons on his shirt before slipping it over her narrow shoulders. He then started gently shoving her towards the backdoor with another glare at the other men, all the while making sure that Lyla's ass was completely hidden by his own body. They were almost to the porch when Daryl felt a hand clap down on his shoulder briefly. He looked around to see Rick staring at him with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"Good job with that walker, man," he said evenly. Daryl stared at him for a moment before nodding briefly and entering the house.

* * *

Lyla gasped as she fell back against the pillows and Daryl collapsed on top of her panting heavily. He stayed there for about a minute before pulling out of her folds and rolling to the side. Lyla scooted closer to him and turned onto her stomach while they both caught their breaths.

"That was uh-," panted Lyla as she struggled to form coherent thoughts.

"Fuckin' awesome," supplied Daryl with a tired grin stretched across his face, "Ah thought so too."

Lyla snorted in a very unfeminine manner and turned her head to the side so she could see him. He rolled on his side so their faces were only inches apart.

"Damn straight," asserted Lyla as Daryl brought his hand up to play with some of her loose hair, "As it fucking should be after nearly two weeks of sex with a partner who has issues with motility."

Daryl huffed and yanked at her hair playfully.

"Fuckin' smartass," he mumbled, "Sorry Ah couldn't move around too much, mah back was all torn up, or did ya ferget already yank? Aren't ya supposed to be a damn genius or somethin'?"

Lyla rolled her eyes and wiggled closer to his chest. She started to run her fingers over one of the larger scars that adorned his stomach and she felt his arm drape itself over her waist. He pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair. After cleaning himself up in the beginning of their stay for Lyla's sake, he had neglected the razorblade and his light beard scratched against her skin.

"You were really good with Sophia today," she murmured seriously and immediately Daryl's body stiffened around her. Lyla ran her hand down his side until his muscles relaxed again and he sighed.

"Don' know why the girl likes me all of a sudden," he muttered as his skin slightly shivered under her touch, "S'not like Ah've spent much time with her."

Lyla pulled back slightly and found his gaze in the dark. She bit her lip; she was unsure if voicing her thoughts about the matter was the best thing to do, but she spoke up anyway.

"You haven't noticed it yet?" she asked softly. Daryl just furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Noticed what?"

"You both act the same," her voice was cautious as her fingers drifted to the large scar on his stomach again.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" he asked with bewilderment coloring his voice.

Lyla sighed and sat up in the bed. Daryl copied her action so they were facing each other, but she refused to meet his eyes as she whispered.

"You know how that asshole Ed was, always hitting Carol. I can tell he hit Sophia too."

Daryl's eyes were dark and hard to read when she finally looked up at him.

"How can ya know that yank?" he asked in a flat voice.

Lyla reached forward to pull one of his large hands onto her lap and traced the lines on his palm in a soothing manner.

"Because," she whispered, "Like I said before, she acts like you Daryl."

He still looked confused, but as Lyla's fingers strayed to an old burn mark from a cigarette on the inside of his wrist realization suddenly dawned on his face. He exhaled sharply and dropped his head into one of his hands. Lyla grasped his hand with both of hers as the atmosphere in the room turned somber.

"I think that's why Sophia seems to trust you," she continued delicately, "Children are known to be very perceptive, and she must have somehow sensed that you've gone through the same experiences as her."

Suddenly he ripped his hand away from her and gripped the hair on either side of his head tightly. Lyla reached out an arm but then thought twice about the motion and dropped it back to her side. Daryl was breathing harshly through his nose.

"Ah can promise ya she didn't," he bit out between shuddering breaths.

"She didn't what?" asked Lyla lamely. She was at a complete loss as to what to do. She wanted to comfort him but she didn't know how.

"Go through the same shit Ah did."

His voice was starting to rise in volume.

"That bastard mighta knocked her around a bit, and he should rot in hell for it, but there's no fuckin' way she had to deal with what Ah did. She'd be a whole fuckin' lot more messed up."

Lyla's stomach dropped and her chest felt heavy with sorrow at Daryl's words. She couldn't stand the short distance between them, so she climbed into his lap. He flinched but Lyla ignored it and gripped his broad shoulders gently; she didn't want to lose physical contact before he started shutting himself off to her. He lowered his hands to the space in between their bodies but didn't raise his head. Lyla decided that she needed to know everything right then; she couldn't ignore it anymore and pretend that he was ok. She wanted to share his burden, and to do that they needed to finally talk about what happened to him as a child.

"What did he do to you Daryl?" she asked in a pained voice as she lifted a hand to card through the hair on the back of his neck, "Let me help you with this."

He groaned and shook his head like he was trying to get rid of a bothersome fly. He pushed her back under the bed and stood up in apparent distress. Lyla was reminded of a child who had lost their parents in a crowded area; Daryl looked like he couldn't figure out what to do in the current situation. He pulled on a pair of black boxers from the floor then began looking around feverishly for the rest of his clothing. It was at this point that Lyla sprung back into action. She quickly walked over to him completely naked and gripped both of his forearms with her hands. Daryl stalled his movement but he still wouldn't meet her gaze. His head was lowered so his messy hair obscured his own eyes. He tried to pull his arms away but Lyla held on tightly.

"No," she said gently but firmly, "Neither of us like dealing with emotional shit Daryl, but we need to talk about this."

He shook his head again in that frenzied manner and mumbled something unintelligible. Lyla could feel the beginnings of tremors shoot through the muscles in his arms and she had to force down the lump that had appeared in her throat. Daryl tried to pull away again but she still managed to maintain her grip on him.

"Daryl," she said beseechingly, "We've been together for more than half of a decade and we've never actually talked about this for more than a few sentences. I would never normally push you to tell me painful things like this, but you've never told _anyone_ about what happened during your childhood. It's not healthy and you can't keep it bottled up forever. It'll only hurt you more in the end."

He didn't react at all but he also didn't attempt to pull away from her again. Lyla remembered the photograph and thought that now was as good a time to bring it up as any.

"I saw what he did to you."

Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke.

"I saw the damage that he did right before Merle came back."

His head finally snapped up and Lyla had to stifle a sob when she saw the look of fear and confusion that was dominating his bright blue eyes.

"What are ya talkin' about?" he rasped.

Lyla swallowed and moved her hands up and down his arms comfortingly.

"Rick found an old picture in the basement the second day here when he was looking for a flashlight. It was of you and Merle in the hospital. You couldn't have been more than fifteen. And you-you were in the bed and-"

She was cut off as her voice failed to work. Daryl's large hands quickly gripped her shoulders and shook her roughly.

"Who saw it?" he demanded with sheer panic dominating his features, "Dammit Lyla who fuckin' saw it?"

Her eyes went wide with surprise at his sudden transformation and she was too flustered to form coherent thoughts for a few seconds. Daryl shook her again and repeated his question.

"No-no one," she stammered, "No one apart from me and Rick, I promise."

That seemed to mollify him marginally, but he still tore away from her and began pacing with his hands in his hair.

"Look at what this is doing to you Daryl!" Lyla exclaimed as a few tears finally managed to escape and slide down her freckled nose, "You need to talk about it!"

Daryl whipped around and stood right in front of her. She instinctively shrunk back from his intimidating posture. He would never hurt her, she knew that, but it didn't stop her brain from going into defense mode.

"What do ya want me to fuckin' say Lyla!" he yelled in a broken voice, "Ya really want me to tell ya about the time he belted me so hard that ma back was bloody fer a week? Or how about when he held a hot iron to ma arm because Ah knocked over one of his fuckin' beers. If ya really wanna hear about shit like that then there must be somethin' fuckin' wrong with ya."

Lyla felt like she had taken a physical blow. She sat down hard on the bed and stared at her enraged boyfriend with tear-filled eyes. She refused to let any more fall.

"I'm just trying to help you," she whispered chokingly.

Daryl sighed and shook his head. His anger seemed to dissipate, leaving only a defeated aura about him.

"Then just stop Lyla," he pleaded in an exhausted voice, "Ah don't want yer help."

He picked up a t-shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head quickly.

"Ah'm gunna sleep in the basement. Remember that we're headin' out early tomorrow."

He exited the room before Lyla had a chance to reply, and she stayed sitting on the bed feeling completely stunned. How had this relaxing day turned into such a nightmare so quickly?

**Thanks for reading! Review if you want, it really helps me. The last few chapters have been pretty serious, but all that stuff's going to be pretty much over with the next chapter, and then I have a whole lot of humorous scenes planned out! Thanks again!**

**P.S. The story will be heading into the second season next chapter, so the characters will be on the highway!**


	11. Midnight Strolls and Highway tolls

**disclaimer: I do not own any part of the walking dead.**

**AN: You guys are seriously awesome with all of your reviews. They help me so much so thanks a million! Here is chapter 11!**

Lyla leaned her head against the cool glass of the RV window and nearly moaned out loud at the temporary relief from the humid heat. She was sitting at the table with Glenn and T-dog on the bench across from her and Bowie next to her. It had been an unspoken agreement within the group that the fat cat was coming with them. Everyone had grown fond of him over the course of their stay, especially the kids.

Lyla let her eyes drift towards the front windshield and she caught a glimpse of the wings on the back of Daryl's leather vest. Her stomach turned to knots as it had been doing all morning. When she had woken up from her very restless sleep earlier, the rest of the group had nearly finished packing up all of the cars. She had been surprised and disappointed to discover than Daryl was leaving his truck behind in favor of Merle's bike with the SS insignia. He had barely spoken two words to her and avoided her like the plague. Lyla got the hint that she wasn't welcome on the motorbike, so she had opted for the RV. The others had given her strange looks, but she merely shook her head and brushed off their unspoken questions.

Now as she watched Daryl's back leading the caravan on the bike, she found herself missing Merle more than ever. He would have understood her desire to get his brother to open up about his childhood abuse. Merle had never pushed Daryl to talk about it before, but he had been with him and witnessed the damage first-hand. That must have created some form of silent understanding between the brothers. She also couldn't image that the Dixons would willingly have an emotional conversation about something like that. They were more of the type that dealt with tragedy and hardship with a stiff upper lip and a pat on the back. Lyla sighed and rubbed Bowie's belly absently. She hoped that Daryl opened himself up to her soon so they could finally move past all of this and enjoy themselves again, well, as much as anyone could enjoy themselves in a zombie apocalypse that is. She lost her train of thought as the RV shuddered to a stop. Dale exchanged a few words with Daryl, who had pulled up to the side, and then the redneck nodded before riding off into the mess of cars that was visible ahead.

"Alright everyone," called Dale from the front, "Daryl's scouting the area up ahead for a way through, but it looks like we're going to have to move some cars. Let's all get out and see if we can scavenge any supplies from the trunks."

Lyla exited the RV and walked with Glenn to a large van that was a few cars deep in the mass. She opened the back door and shut it quickly when she found nothing but a dead body. Not walker dead; dead dead. She felt a nudge on her shoulder and she looked sideways at Glenn.

"Yeah?" she asked, not unkindly. Glenn looked sheepishly at her and playfully punched her shoulder.

"You alright?" he questioned in voice that Lyla thought was supposed to sound casual.

"Yeah, of course," she replied hurriedly as she walked around to the trunk, "Why wouldn't I be?"

She moved to open the trunk but stopped when Glenn's hand appeared on her arm.

"Come on Lyla, we can all see that something's up between you and Robin Hood."

Lyla snorted and turned to face him.

"Nice nickname, I think I'll steal that one sometime."

Glenn stared at her reproachfully.

"Don't avoid my question," he scolded and Lyla rolled her eyes, "Come on, tell me what's up. I'm the only person decently close to you in age here, so that makes us automatic best friends."

Lyla smiled briefly before shaking her head sadly.

"It was my fault," she started as she opened the trunk of the van, "I pushed him too hard about something he didn't want to talk about and he freaked out a bit. I knew he would, but I guess I tried to tell myself that I could help him work through it. I was wrong, and now I have to wait for him to let me back in."

She rummaged through some dirty clothing, finding nothing useful, and unzipped a large suitcase. Glenn came over to help her sort through the miscellaneous collection of stuff in the car.

"He will," said Glenn confidently, "That dude is so whipped."

Lyla felt the blood drain from her face as she remembered one of the things that Daryl had said the night before: the comment about the belt. Glenn's eyes widened as he took in her expression and he put two and two together.

"Wait are-are you fucking serious?" he stammered in disbelief, "Did his dad really used to-"

Rick suddenly sprinted into the area, effectively cutting off Glenn.

"Get under the cars, now!" he whispered shouted before sprinting off again.

Glenn and Lyla looked at each other for a moment then simultaneously dropped to the ground and rolled under the van. Only a few seconds passed before the sound of shuffling feet reached their ears. Lyla brought her hands up to her mouth to stop that gasp that threatened to escape when she realized just how many walkers there were. She grabbed Glenn's hand and was happy when he squeezed hers tightly. They had no weapons on them, and if the walkers found them they were basically trapped and unable to move. After what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, the shuffling stopped. Lyla looked at Glenn questioningly and he nodded. They rolled out from under the car and stood up quietly.

Lyla immediately began searching for Daryl's head over the cars and calling his name in a panic. Glenn was trying to quiet her but she ignored his attempts. Her panic was steadily growing as Daryl failed to appear after all of her shouts. She couldn't even think about the possibility that something had happened to him. Blackness was starting to creep in around the edges of her vision and Glenn's voice was becoming more and more muffled. She kept stumbling forward despite this in her search for Daryl. She rounded a truck and bit back a yell as she came face to face with an old, male walker. He shuffled toward her eagerly as the scent of living flesh wafted over him and suddenly Lyla was filled with anger. Anger at this walker for stopping her from finding Daryl, anger at Daryl for not being there, and anger at herself for possibility making the last conversation she'd have with her boyfriend an argument. As the emotion coursed through her body she felt her mind sharpen and her sight clear.

Lyla reached forward as the walker approached her and smashed its face into a car window with her hands.

"I. AM. NOT. FUCKING. DEALING. WITH. THIS. RIGHT. NOW!" she screamed. A vicious head smash followed each word. She kept slamming the walker into the window until its face was nothing more than a mess of blood and crushed bone. When she was satisfied she let the body fall to the ground while deep shuddering breaths wracked her thin frame. Her hands were covered in walker blood and the rest of her body was splattered with it. She raised her head and saw that Glenn was staring at her with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"That-that," he panted, trying to catch his breath as well, "Was hands down the most fucking badass thing I've ever witnessed."

Lyla stared at him incredulously and opened her mouth to respond, but before she could a certain redneck with a crossbow whipped around the side of a car near them. He was bloody and dirty, but he was _alive_, and that was all that mattered. When Daryl spotted her his body visibly sagged. He shot over to her, pushed Glenn out of the way, and frantically began checking her over for injuries. She stood there through his ministrations, unable to move as palpable relief inundated through her system. She couldn't stop the flow of tears that were streaming down her face. Daryl touched her chin with one hand and moved her head around gently so he could inspect her.

"Where'd all this fuckin' blood come Lyla?" he asked her urgently. She didn't respond. Daryl gripped her chin a little harder.

"Come on darlin', ya gotta work with me here. Did ya get bit?"

She shook her head weakly and he breathed out harshly before pulling her roughly to his chest. Lyla wrapped her arms around his waist and started to sob loudly into the front of his vest. Daryl crushed her against him and pressed his face into the section of her golden hair that was free of gore.

"'M sorry 'bout last night," he mumbled in a voice that was tight with emotion, "Ah shouldn't've walked out like that. "Specially when ya were just tryin' to help."

He paused for a moment then whispered in partially strangled voice, "Ah thought fer a minute that ya died all over again when that herd came through. Ah'll talk 'bout whatever ya want yank, Ah promise, Ah'll tell ya anythin' ya want to know. Just no more fightin'."

Lyla nodded and sobbed a string of words into his chest. All Daryl got from it was "my fault". He laughed without any humour.

"Nah it ain't. We both know that Ah'm the fucked up one yank. 'S'always ma fault."

She shook her head furiously and gripped his back with her fingers. Daryl just stroked her hair with one hand and kissed her temple as she continued to cry. Between his injuries two weeks ago and their fight last night, she must have been stressed out pretty badly. He supposed that this walker attack had pushed her over the edge that she had been teetering on for a while, and he let her get it all out. He looked over her head at Glenn, who was awkwardly trying to find something to do in the area while the couple had their intimate moment. Daryl whistled lowly to catch the younger man's attention and jerked his head towards the dead walker on the ground. He raised an eyebrow to silently ask what happened. Glenn nodded in understanding.

"Lyla just kind of went postal on it," he said quietly as he ran a hand through his hair, "She just kept yelling and ramming its head into the window until it was mush."

Daryl smirked slightly and gave Lyla a squeeze.

"Good girl," he said jokingly.

Her sobs had quieted but Lyla still was silent as she clung to his body. Daryl was started to get slightly nervous about the way she was acting. He brushed some of her long hair away from her face and ducked his head down so he could look her at her. Lyla's green eyes were bloodshot and her nose was red from all her sobbing.

"Y'allright?" he asked softly.

She nodded slowly and raised a hand to wipe at her nose adorably.

"I'm just exhausted. I think that last burst of adrenaline with the walker drained me," she admitted tiredly, "I also didn't sleep much last night."

Daryl grimaced in understanding; he hadn't slept well without her next to him either.

"Can ya walk?"

He smirked when Lyla pushed away from him slightly and gave him a very indignant look. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright," he said easily with a roll of his eyes.

Lyla smiled and turned to take a step. Her leg immediately started shaking and her knee hit the ground as the other one buckled under her weight.

"Right, that's it," huffed Daryl as he put his crossbow on the ground. He bent slightly to hook an arm behind her knees and wrapped the other around her back. Lyla made a noise of protestation as he stood fluidly with her held solidly in his arms.

"Sorry yank," mumbled Daryl, "Ah ain't lettin' ya walk back when yer too damn tired to even stand up properly."

Lyla didn't protest and simply laid her head on his shoulder in defeat. She really was dead on her feet anyway. Daryl started to move through the cars towards the area the RV was in.

"Grab ma bow will ya?" he tossed over his shoulder at Glenn without looking back.

Lyla's eyes slid closed as Daryl bobbed and weaved throughout the jungle of automobiles. She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she woke up to Daryl tapping her face lightly.

"Not yet darlin'," he said as he lowered her to sit on the open bed of a pick-up truck, "Let's get ya cleaned up then ya can sleep fer a while in the Winnebago."

"You too," she whispered as she watched him remove the red rag from his back pocket and splash some water on it. He grabbed her chin and started to gently wash off the splatters of walker gore on her face.

"Ah can't just yet," he murmured after rinsing the rag off and starting on her hands and arms, "We sorta got a problem in the works and Ah reckon they're gunna need me."

Lyla stared at him in confusion and then looked around at the others clustered near the RV. Everyone looked distressed and Carol was openly crying while Lori tried to comfort her.

"Daryl, what happened?" asked Lyla worriedly.

Daryl finished cleaning her arms and squeezed out the rag.

"Sophia got lost in the woods. Ah gotta go out after this to see if Ah can track her."

Lyla'a eyes widened and she shot her hand forward to grab Daryl's arm.

"Are you serious?"

He nodded and helped her stand up on shaky legs. He wrapped his arm around her waist and nudged her towards the RV's door. When Lyla saw where they were going she pulled on his arm to make him stop moving.

"I'm not sleeping now that I know what happened. I'm coming to help look for Sophia."

Daryl glared at her and crossed his muscled arms over his chest. Lyla had to hold on to the side of a truck to keep herself up without his support.

"Nah, ya ain't comin'," he said determinedly, "Ya can barely fuckin' walk. Ya won't be no help to anybody like that."

Lyla sighed in defeat as she realized the truth in his statement and held out her arm meekly for assistance. Daryl put his arm back around her and started to move towards the RV again.

"Don' worry," he said lowly as they passed the sobbing Carol, "Ah'll find the girl and be back before dark."

Lyla squeezed his arm tightly as she tried to push herself onto the first stair. Her legs weren't cooperating and Daryl lifted her easily when he saw her struggle. She paused on the top step and turned to face him. They were the same height while she was a step above him and Lyla rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I know you'll find her," she said with a steely glint in her eye.

Daryl raised a hand to the back of her head and pulled her into a searing kiss. They broke apart after a few seconds and then Daryl helped her make it to the bed in the back. Lyla laid down on it carefully and immediately felt her eyes begin to droop. She made a muffled whining noise when Daryl's hands pulled her back up into a sitting position and deposited a meowing Bowie next to her.

"Gotta get ya outta those clothes yank, they're filthy," he murmured softly as he pulled her gore-covered shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. He turned his back to her and rummaged through his bag that had been stuffed back there before they left the house. He turned back a few moments later and suddenly he was pushing one of his soft t-shirts over Lyla's head. Then he was pulling off her shorts and sliding a pair of boxers up her long, tan legs. When she was finally dressed for a nap Lyla fell back against the bed and snuggled into a pillow as her eyes slid shut. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and opened her sleepy eyes marginally.

"I'm sorry about last night," she mumbled sleepily as she stared into Daryl's bright blue eyes, "I shouldn't have pushed like that."

Daryl shook his head as his hand stroked up and down her arm.

"Ain't got nothing to be sorry for yank," he whispered, "Go to sleep. We'll talk later. Ah love ya."

Lyla nodded and let her eyes shut again.

"Love you too," she breathed into the pillow.

Right before sleep overcame her, she felt a pair of warm lips press against her forehead.

Lyla woke up disoriented due to the darkening sky outside. She must have been asleep for over five hours. She dragged a hand through her long hair and sat up in a daze. Her eyes swiveled around the back of the RV and settled on Glenn's slumped form in a chair near the bed. He smiled when he saw her looking at him and straightened up.

"Nice to see you back in the land of the living," he laughed easily, "I thought you were never going to wake up."

Lyla snorted and attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes.

"I guess I really needed that. I must have been more exhausted then I thought. Why are in you in here anyway?" she asked curiously before adding, "Not that I mind your company or anything."

Glenn smirked and shook his head lightly.

"I was told to stay in here and keep an eye on you under the threat of something very unpleasant happening to my genitals," he said with a straight face and a slight shudder.

Lyla rolled her eyes and stood up. She grabbed onto a table as the blood rushed to her head and vertigo overcame her senses. When the earth stopped moving under her feet she turned back to Glenn.

"So," she began with a sly grin, "Daryl said he'd chop off your dick if you didn't stay with me?"

Glenn's face paled as he nodded unsteadily.

"And I believe him too," he said nervously, "So I'm sticking to your side until he comes back."

"Well he sure knows to be romantic," quipped Lyla sarcastically as she pulled her boots on, "But I don't need a babysitter."

She stood up and grabbed a hunting knife out of Daryl's bag near the bed; she didn't want to be unprepared like last time if she ran into a walker. Glenn scrambled out of his seat when he saw her heading for the door.

"Wait, hold up, where are you going?"

Lyla stopped at the entrance and looked at him.

"I can't just sit here Glenn," she said with a slight smile, "I want to be useful and actually do something beneficial. Plus it's better to keep my mind busy so I don't worry about Daryl in the woods."

She hopped down the steps and started towards the van she and Glenn had been sorting through earlier; she might as well finish the job. Glenn caught up with her quickly and soon they reached the vehicle.

"You know," Glenn started as they pulled open the trunk, "I think Daryl's the last person you have to worry about in all this. It's like he's been training his whole life for this."

Lyla quirked up her plump lips in a half-smile and started to remove all the bags from the car.

"Trust me I know Glenn," she chuckled with her hands on her narrow hips, "Seems like everyone makes fun of the redneck until the zombie apocalypse. Daryl is more suited for this new world than anyone else I know, except maybe Merle that is."

Glenn laughed too and nudged her with his elbow playfully.

"That he is. Still, I don't understand how you're so comfortable around him. The man scares the shit out of me."

"Oh come on he's not that bad," said Lyla with a roll of her eyes, "He's like a skittish dog; he just takes a while to get comfortable around someone but then he's loyal to them for life."

Glenn hefted a box filled with junk food onto the ground. He and Lyla both eyed it with excitement before Glenn started the conversation again.

"That still doesn't stop him from looking scary as hell," panted Glenn as he wiped a hand across his sweaty brow and sat down, "With his height, and his permanent glare, and his muscles."

Lyla laughed loudly as she pushed around some of the left over stuff in the trunk.

"Well he may look like a german shepherd but he's really more of a golden-holy fucking shit!"

Glenn looked up at her like she was crazy. She was staring into the trunk with her jaw dropped and her eyes ridiculously wide.

"Golden holy fucking shit?" asked Glenn with a raised eyebrow, "I'm sorry, but how does that resemble your scary redneck boyfriend?"

Lyla smacked the back of his head and yanked him up by his elbow. Glenn started to protest but when he saw what she was gaping at his own jaw dropped like a rock. Lyla had lifted up the top of the bottom compartment of the trunk, and underneath it laid a whole host of shocking materials. There were three large bags of what was clearly marijuana and additional smaller bags filled with other drugs and paraphernalia.

"Holy fucking shit," Glenn repeated as he stared at it all. He started to laugh somewhat nervously and soon him and Lyla were in full-blown hysterics. She grabbed his arm with both hands while doubled over and tried to catch her breath. When they finally managed to quiet down she straightened up and looked at Glenn.

"Should we tell the others or should we just hoard it to ourselves?" she asked with a completely straight face. Glenn looked at her in astonishment.

"You're not kidding are you?" he said.

Lyla bit her lip and looked between him and the contents of the trunk.

"I'm not one for the harder stuff, but who knows? We might be able to trade it to some other people down the road for things we need."

Glenn considered her point for a moment before voicing another question.

"What about the weed?"

Lyla grinned conspiratorially.

"I'll tell you what," she said in a hushed voice while looking around for eavesdroppers, "I'll stash it in the side bags on Daryl's bike. There's got to be at least three ounces here, and the packaging looks airtight so it will stay good for a while. Next time we find a safe place to stay, you, Daryl, and me are getting baked. Then you'll see that he's not that scary."

She put her hands on Glenn's shoulders and smiled enthusiastically. Glenn chuckled and shook his head in defeat.

"Alright, alright," he said as he held his hands up, "Let's just not tell the cops about it agreed?"

"Obviously," nodded Lyla with a roll of her eyes. Then she squealed uncharacteristically with a little jump, "I can't wait for you to see Daryl high. It's hilarious."

Glenn started stuffing the different bags of drugs into a small canvas bag and then handed it off to Lyla.

"So what is a blazed redneck like?" he asked with fake seriousness.

Lyla shouldered the bag and grabbed some of the other salvageable supplies they had taken out of the car.

"Well I don't know about other blazed rednecks," she answered while drawing her eyebrows together in mock concentration, effectively playing along with Glenn's charade, "But _my_ blazed redneck turns quite cuddly and adorable."

Glenn scoffed.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Lyla laughed and bumped her hip with his as they started to move back towards the rest of the group. The sun was starting to get low in the sky and the search party was bound to be back soon.

"Hey," she said in a more serious tone, "Sorry if I freaked you out before, you know with the whole sobbing episode. I think I was just really physically and mentally exhausted from my fight with Daryl the night before, and then the walker herd happened to add on to that. I just kept thinking that if something happened to Daryl, the last conversation I had with him was an argument and it sort of made me fall apart."

Glenn slung a friendly arm over her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

"It's ok, you don't have to explain yourself. I think I've cried more than a dozen times since this thing started and I don't even have someone to worry about like you do. Or anyone to worry about me for that matter."

Lyla giggled at his comment and patted his arm.

"I'll worry about you Glenn," she said with a nod and a smile, "After all, you've already self-appointed yourself as my best friend."

They both continued to laugh as they made their way around a car and stepped into sight of the RV. Glenn faltered when he saw the others huddled close together around the opening of the Winnebago. The group turned to stare at the two with sad looks on their faces. Some of them looked mildly confused and only then did Lyla realize that she was still in Daryl's baggy t-shirt and boxers. Then her heart dropped when she realized the others were back and that they must have not found Sophia. Daryl broke away from the group and strode towards them. He came to a stop before them and pointedly cleared his throat with a glare at Glenn. The younger man quickly realized that his arm was still around Lyla and he dropped it like he had been burned. He backed away as Daryl reached out an arm and drew Lyla towards him in a protective manner. She shifted the load she was carrying under one arm and looked up at him.

"You didn't find her?" she said with dread coloring her voice.

Daryl shook his head dejectedly and started to lead her over to Rick and Lori's station wagon so she could put the supplies in.

"Her trail ran cold," he mumbled as he took the boxes from her and packed them into the backseat, "And it'll be damn near impossible to try to pick it back up in the dark."

Lyla leaned against the car and ran a hand up his arm. He almost visibly deflated at her touch and hung his head as he braced his hands on the roof. Lyla slipped under one of his arms and faced him with her back to the car.

"You'll find her tomorrow," she said confidently, "It's not your fault that you didn't have enough time today."

Daryl sighed and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes tiredly.

"Don' change the fact that the little girl's gotta spend all night alone and scared in the woods," he said in a strained voice.

He shook his head and straightened up. Lyla chose not to say anything more on the matter. Daryl reached for the canvas bag on her shoulder and she shied away from his outstretched hand. He gave her a questioning glance and she smiled tightly back.

"This stuff is going on your bike," she explained.

"What is it?" he asked as he made another move to grab the bag from her.

Lyla ducked away and shook her head.

"You'll see later, but now is not the time. It's just something that you, Glenn, and I are going to have a lot of fun with."

For a moment he looked like he was going to demand to know what was is the bag, but then he just blew out a breath and shook his head.

"Whatever," he said with a huff, "Keep yer damn secrets with the chinaman. Should Ah be gettin' worried 'bout short round movin' in on ma girlfriend?"

Lyla giggled at his sarcastic tone as they moved towards the area where his bike was parked.

"Yes Daryl," she said jokingly, "After six years together I've decided to dump you for a guy I met three weeks ago. You're getting old and I'm suddenly craving the attention of a younger man who can satisfy my needs better."

Daryl glared at her mockingly.

"Ah ain't old ya smartass," and then he smirked like he was proud of himself, "And Ah don't think that kid is goin' anywhere near ya. Nearly shits his pants every time Ah look at 'im."

"Would it kill you to try to be nice to someone other than me?" she asked exasperatedly as she shoved the concealed drugs into the side bag on the bike, "I mean really, what are you going to do if I get bit? You barely know the others."

Daryl turned to look at her seriously.

"If ya get bit Lyla, which I'm never gunna fucking let happen, I'd put a bullet in ma brain right after I put one in yers."

Lyla frowned as she took in his chilling words and his straight face.

"Daryl, that's not what I would want," she said quietly, "I wouldn't want you to kill yourself. I would want you to continue to live and help the group, even if it's without me."

He gave her a calculating look from narrowed eyes.

"Give me and honest answer to this question darlin'. If Ah bit it tomorrow would ya really wanna keep on strugglin' in this shitty life?"

Lyla opened her mouth but then snapped it close with a disgruntled look on her face.

"See what Ah mean," said Daryl quietly as she dropped her gaze to her boot-clad feet, "It wouldn't be so easy to keep on goin'. Ah did it once already fer Merle but Ah ain't doin' that again."

He pulled her to stand between his legs and buried his face in her neck. She said something but whatever it was came out muffled as her face was pressed tightly to his shoulder. Daryl drew back slightly to look at her as she repeated herself.

"I said that means that we just have to make sure to stay alive, then we won't have to worry about what would happen after."

Daryl smiled thinly and kissed her briefly.

"Deal," he agreed before looking at her attire and continuing in a worried voice, "How'd ya sleep? Do ya feel any better?"

"Yeah I'm fine now," Lyla answered with a soft smile. Then her expression became slightly anxious and she bit her lip, "We still need to talk about what happened last night."

Daryl dropped his head to her shoulder for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Ah know darlin', Ah promised I'd talk, but not yet alright? Ah gotta think about how Ah wanna get into it; Ah ain't ever talked 'bout that stuff with anyone before, you were right."

Lyla ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to Daryl," she murmured softly.

He raised his head but didn't look at her directly.

"No Ah-Ah think Ah need to," he said in a determined but somewhat nervous voice, "But don't hold me to anything. Ah can't promise how it's gunna go."

Lyla nodded and moved her hand from his hair to his lightly bearded cheek.

"Tell me whatever you want, and if you start to feel uncomfortable just let me know. You can stop at any time."

He nodded his head and started to head back towards the others with Lyla under his arm.

"Next time we're alone, I'll talk. I promise," he said resolutely.

Lyla just nodded and placed a hand on his chest.

Lyla tried to block out the sound of Carol crying as she lay squished next to Daryl in one corner of the RV. Fearing another attack from a herd, the group had chosen to all sleep in the confines of the Winnebago that night despite the lack of breathing room that resulted. Lyla hadn't even bothered to change out of Daryl's clothing from before, and he was still in the clothes he had worn that day as well. Between Carol's sobs and the stressful day they had experienced, it seemed like no one was able to sleep comfortably.

"Alright that's it," said Daryl suddenly as he stood up and grabbed his crossbow, "Ah'm goin' out to look fer the girl. Can't sit around anymore."

Lyla scrambled to her feet and noticed that Andrea was doing the same. Lyla grabbed the older woman's arm lightly as Daryl bounded down the steps to go outside.

"Hey," she said quietly, "Do you mind if only I go out with Daryl? There's, um, some things we really need to talk about."

Andrea stared at her long and hard for a few seconds before sighing and nodding.

"Of course," she whispered with a warm hand on Lyla's elbow, "Work out whatever the hell you two were fighting about this morning."

Lyla smiled and thanked her before following her boyfriend out into the mess of cars. She made sure to grab a baseball bat from the front seat before she lightly jogged after his retreating figure. He must have heard her footsteps because he stopped his movement and waited for her with his back turned. Neither of them said anything as she approached; Daryl just grabbed her hand and led her towards the thick woods. They walked in silence for almost twenty minutes, neither wanting to disrupt the calm and quiet, but their earlier conversation weighing on their shoulders heavily. It was Daryl's quiet drawl that finally permeated the pregnant silence.

"He was already drunk off his ass when Ah came home from school that day."

Lyla swallowed the lump in her throat and gripped his hand more tightly.

"He musta came home from work early, cuz Ah could usually hide away in ma room before he got back. He wouldn't pay much attention to me if Ah weren't actually visible. I was usually fine if Ah beat him home, but this wasn't one of those times."

Daryl's voice was unusually devoid of emotion; he seemed like he was reading a story out of a book.

"He started hollering at me soon as Ah walked through the door. Sayin' Ah was a waste of space, that it was ma fault our Ma died. The normal stuff like that."

He was speaking more quickly now and taking shallower breaths. Lyla had to force herself to remain quiet and not say anything.

"Ah managed to ignore him fer a while, like Ah normally did, but then he said somethin' nasty 'bout Merle and Ah just sorta snapped. Ah screamed back at him. He just stared at me fer a full minute before his whole face started turnin' this ugly red color. Then he started screamin' and throwin' insults at me worse than before. Next thing Ah know he's chuckin' a beer bottle right at my face. Hit me in the side of the head, right here."

He raised her hand to the left side of his face and traced her fingers round the half-circle scar that curved around his left eye and disappeared beneath his eyebrow.

"Didn't really do a lot of damage, just bled a lot like all head wounds, but it got me disoriented for a few seconds and the blood got in ma eyes. Then he pulled me up by ma shirt and shoved me into the coffee table. Ah was still fuzzy from the hit to the head and Ah stumbled and crashed into it. That's how my arm broke and Ah got all cut up. He smashed another bottle on ma head then and Ah got knocked out fer a few minutes. Ah came to when he started kickin' me in mah ribs. Ah cried like a baby then, begged him to stop, said Ah'd do anything he wanted. But he still kept-"

Daryl's voice caught and he paused his speech for a moment before clearing his throat.

"You can stop anytime you want to Daryl."

She was careful to keep from sounding like she was pitying him or trying to baby him. He just shook his head and sniffed once.

"Nah, Ah wanna get it all out in one go," Lyle bit her lip and nodded for him to go on, "Ah eventually passed out again, but when Ah woke up Ah was in the hospital with a bunch of fuckin' tubes comin' outta ma. Apparently one of ma lungs collapsed and they had to blow it back up for a balloon or somethin'. Ya probably know about that stuff better. Ah sorta freaked the fuck out and started ripping all of the shit off of me. Bunch of the doctors tried to calm me down, but Ah just kept yellin'. Didn't know what was goin' on or what the hell had happened and Ah started to hyperventilate. Scared the shit outta myself doin' that."

He paused for a moment to step over a fallen log then help Lyla over it.

"Eventually they had to hold me down and one of 'em sedated me. Next time Ah woke up Merle was sittin' next to the bed with his head clearer than Ah'd ever seen it. Hadn't seen him fer years at that point. Yelled at me fer a while then real bad. Fer not tellin' anyone what he was doin' to me. Then Ah cried again fer a long time. That loud, snotty sort of cryin' where it feels like ya can't get enough air in yer lungs."

He laughed at this point and Lyla looked at him strangely and a little bit worried.

"Don' think Ah've ever seen Merle that freaked out before," he chuckled humorlessly, "He stopped yelling and sat down on the bed. Just kinda patted ma head until Ah stopped. He never was one fer comfortin' others, but he tried his best. He was barely twenty-five at the time and Ah was only fourteen. Neither of us knew how to act towards each other. Eventually the police came to ask Merle some questions, that's when Ah found out that he'd killed Pa. Ya know what Ah did then Lyla?"

She shook her head and remained mute.

"Ah started cryin' all over again. Don' even know how Ah had anythin' left in ma body to cry out but there Ah was bawling like a baby all over again cuz ma Pa died. Ah was cryin' over the son-ova-bitch who nearly beat me to death every week fer close to ten years and Ah had no fuckin' idea why."

Lyla chose to speak up then, as Daryl was started to sound slightly hysterical and manic.

"He was still your dad Daryl," she said in a soothing voice, "Of course you would mourn for his loss, despite his treatment of you. Doctors and psychologists see the same thing happen with abused children all the time."

He sniffed and shook his head again as they walked into a small clearing.

"Still don' make sense though," he said dryly, "Cuz it weren't like Ah loved the asshole or anythin'. Ah think Ah just got overwhelmed and thought it was how Ah was supposed to act. Anyway, Merle made them leave until Ah calmed down again, but they had to come back to take some pictures fer evidence in his case. It was pretty much just fer procedure purposes though; no one was tryin' to put Merle away after seein' me. They sent us the pictures back after everythin' had settled, and Ah'm guessin' we missed one of 'em when we were throwin' 'em all out. Then Rick found it apparently."

Lyla forced herself to remain stoic on the outside even though internally she was battling against a whole host of emotions.

"How long were you in the hospital for?" she asked quietly in as even of a voice as she could manage.

Daryl took a few seconds to think about her question before answering.

"About a month Ah guess. Had a lot of internal bleeding from ma broken ribs that they needed to keep an eye on."

He stopped walking at that point and Lyla was only alerted to it when her hand was yanked back in his. She turned and saw that he was glaring harshly at the ground. It was as if he was trying to get something out but he didn't have the courage to actually put it into words. Lyla squeezed his large hand and waited for him to speak. When he did a few minutes later, his voice was filled with self-hatred and embarrassment.

"Spent a couple of weeks in the psych ward after that."

Lyla was glad that the darkness of the night hid the widening of her eyes, but the quiet of the woods did nothing to mask the soft noise of astonishment she let slip from her mouth. Merle hadn't mentioned anything about a psych ward. Daryl continued in an angry tone.

"They didn't know what to do with me while Merle was dealin' with all his shit. They said they wanted to evaluate me or some shit. Mostly Ah just slept a lot, didn't really talk to anyone though they certainly tried to get me to. Anyways, by the time Merle got cleared and was awarded custody of me, Ah had already missed 'bout three months of school. He decided to just keep me home fer the rest of the year, that's why Ah was almost twenty when ah finally graduated. Then, well, ya know the rest yank."

They stood there in the small clearing bathed in silence, just holding the other's hands like a lifeline. Lyla chewed her lip, mulling something over in her mind, before she voiced her thoughts.

"If I ask right now, will you tell me how each one happened?" she asked seriously.

Daryl looked confused.

"Each one of what darlin'?"

"Your scars," she replied bluntly, "I want to know each of their causes."

Daryl's face blanched but he nodded anyways as he looked into her determined green eyes. He didn't understand the motivation behind her request but he couldn't deny her anything right then. He let out a soft breath and closed his eyes as her fingers lightly trailed along the thin scar along the outside of his nose. He felt her knee bump his softly and he answered her silent question.

"The beer bottle from that day. Ah've got two screws in ma nose and a metal eye socket."

She nodded and moved her fingers to the tiny white line that cut into his upper lip. Once again he responded, this time without being prodded.

"Back handed me when Ah was nine. Didn' take me to get stitches so it never healed right."

He then sucked in a sharp breath as she slid her cold hand underneath his shirt and rested it on a large surgical scar on his side.

"Same day as before. They had to go in and get all the bone fragments from ma ribs outta me so they wouldn't cut anythin' up. Also had to drain a bunch of blood that was collectin' inside."

Lyla kept touching the various scars that littered his body and Daryl kept telling her how he got them until they had covered every scar on his torso and arms. When they ran out of abrasions to discuss, the two stood there staring at each other in complete silence. Neither could tell if their relationship had changed in any way and neither wanted to be the first to break the silence. Daryl was about to turn away when Lyla's hand shot out to bunch in his shirt.

"I'm glad Merle killed him."

Her voice was quiet but it was unwavering in her conviction and when Daryl looked at her eyes they were bright with fury. He gave a watery chuckle and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"Ya don't mean that," he said with a shake of his head, "Yer too good of a person."

"I fucking mean it with everything in me," she shot back in a biting voice. Daryl tried to take a step back instinctively at the intensity in her voice but her hand on his shirt held him in place.

"Even with all your liberal northern bullshit?" he questioned to alleviate some of the tension in the conversation. It worked well enough and he was rewarded when Lyla scoffed lightly.

"Even so," she said with a huff before becoming serious again, "I think anyone who abuses a child should be incarcerated for life. It makes sense that I'd wish death upon the bastard who did it to the most important person in my life."

His eyes sought hers out in the dark and he watched her through squinted eyes.

"Ya mean that?"

Lyla's face softened as she heard how young and hopeful Daryl's voice sounded. He rubbed his nose and sniffed again in an adorable manner. She pulled him closer to her and shoved her hands in his dirty back pockets as she stared up at him with a gentle smile on her face.

"Of course I do Daryl," she whispered, "You have to know that after six years."

He lowered his head and his hair flopped forward to cover his eyes.

"Jus' always figured that ya didn' need me as much as Ah needed ya," he admitted quietly, "Ya always had yer family and everythin', and Ah've never had anyone 'sides Merle."

Lyla pushed her face into his chest and squeezed him tightly. His smell of musk, wood, and old-spice deodorant washed over her comfortingly.

"I've always needed you," she mumbled into the soft fabric. She felt his hands slowly and cautiously grip her hips. His breathing had evened out and Lyla could feel some of the stiffness in his body start to leave.

"I don't know when exactly the dynamic changed," she continued, "But you've been the most important part of my life for a long time Daryl Dixon, and that's never going to change. Now this is all getting too emotional and sappy for me, so I say we get back to looking for Sophia."

Daryl chuckled into her hair and then pushed her away gently. He tried to rub his eyes discreetly and Lyla averted her eyes to make it seem like she hadn't seen the gesture. After a few moments he blew out a breath with his hands on his hips and started walking into the woods again. Lyla hurried to catch up with his impossibly long strides and they trudged in silence for the next five minutes.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked quietly, "After telling me all of that?"

Daryl was quiet for so long that she thought he wasn't going to answer at all.

"Can' really tell," he murmured without looking at her, "Ah don' feel no different though."

"I think you will," Lyla replied in a determined voice, "Definitely in the long run."

"Well yer the doctor," he said as he slung his arm over her shoulder. The night was chilly and she was still only clothed in his t-shirt and boxers, "Ah said Ah'd do whatever ya want yank, so long as it makes you happy."

She smiled briefly at him in the dark before he spoke again, this time he steered the conversation away from such serious topics.

"So what's with you and the chinaman, huh? Seem to be getting' pretty chummy with each other."

His voice was joking but Lyla could still hear the undertones of jealousy and apprehension behind it.

"Settle down redneck," she said with a laugh, "Glenn would never try anything with me. As you pointed out before, he probably has nightmares about you castrating him in his tent at already."

Her grin turned into a full out, ear-to-ear smile as Daryl guffawed loudly with his whole body shaking. It was amazing to hear him laugh that deeply after the events of the last few days. Lyla shook her head fondly as her boyfriend continued to laugh at the amount of fear he had managed to effortlessly instill in another man.

"I'm serious," she giggled, "He probably thinks about your muscles more than I do. I wouldn't be surprised if he came to me to ask about your workout habits."

Daryl snorted and pushed at some of his hair with his braced hand.

"It's not like Ah work out in no pussy air-conditioned gym," he huffed indignantly, "Everythin' Ah am has come from a lifetime of fuckin' hard labor."

"Hey!" she protested lightly, "You came to the gym with me that one time."

He raised his thin eyebrows at her in amusement.

"Felt like a fuckin' monkey, jus' liftin' things up and puttin' em down again. Why do people pay ta do that. And ya hated it just Ah much as Ah did darlin'," he said dryly, "Let's not ferget that you never went back either."

"Well I didn't know it was going to be so boring," she whined pathetically with her head against his shoulder, "And I felt like I was tripping over myself on the treadmill, it sucked. Running outside is infinitely better."

He chuckled and made a noise of agreement.

"But seriously," he said with a tug of her hair, "What were the two of ya smilin' 'bout so much before?"

She waved her hand in mock aloofness.

"Oh nothing," she said airily before her expression turned mischievous, "We just found a whole bunch of weed in one of the cars."

Daryl's strides came to an abrupt halt and he stared at her intensely with his bright blue eyes. She smiled back and he could see that she wasn't joking.

"No shit," he said incredulously with a shake of his head, "What else did ya find?"

Lyla reached into the rolled waistband of the boxers on her hips and pulled out a lighter and a carton of cigarettes. She had made sure to keep them on her for a situation just like this when he needed a bit of relaxation. She held them out to him and he groaned as he reached for them with fumbling hands. He lit one up and sucked in the smoke greedily. After a few more inhales he turned his focus back to her and a lazy smile snuck across his face.

"Yer too good to me Lyla," he said as he leaned down to kiss her.

She giggled and stretched up to meet him halfway.

**Finally done with all the mushy stuff for now! Thanks for reading, review if you want, it really motivates me to get chapters out more quickly. If you have any ideas or suggestions feel free to PM me or put them in reviews! THANK YOU GUYS!**


	12. I AM SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!

I am so so so so sooooooooo sorry i haven't updated in a while and I know you guys are all going to want to kill me when you realize this isn't a chapter. I love all you guys and your reviews/follows/favorites make me so happy. I'm taking 21 credits this semester and have been working my ass off towards the end of it. I take my last final Friday though, so I will be able to update VERY VERY SOON!

I've had almost an entire chapter on my computer for over a month I just haven't had time to finish it, but it will be up early next week!

Any last minute suggestions for the chapter? It's going to be a funny one and it will be veryyyyyyyy long because I am so sorry for keeping you guys waiting!

GET READY AND THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!


	13. Farm Days and a Midnight Blaze

**disclaimer: I do not own the walking dead or anything associated with it.**

**HELLO! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in forever, but thank you guys for sticking with me and reviewing. You are all the best! **

**SPECIAL THANKS TO Rikkiblake777 FOR TRANSLATING THER GERMAN FOR ME! :)**

**Here is chapter 12 and a whole lot of humor!**

**Chapter 12**

Lyla was humming to herself as she wolfed down the portion of scrambled eggs she had been given by Lori. The group was situated around a fire that was on its way out in the field next to Hershel's farm. The group had arrived there two days ago, after Lori had been whisked off on a horse and Lyla followed with Daryl on his bike. Her medical experience had been needed with Carl's injury and she was both happy and relieved that she had been able to save the young boy. She had grown pretty attached to the kid after only a couple of weeks and it would have been heartbreaking to have not been able to do anything for him.

Hershel seemed like an honest man to Lyla, and she could tell that Daryl felt similarly by the respect that he had shown the older man upon introductions. The other members of his household had seemed nice enough as well, and Lyla had particularly taken a liking to Maggie, Hershel's oldest daughter. The girl was around the same age as her and Lyla got along with her right off the bat. She was strong, spirited, and funny as hell. If the sideways glances and blushes weren't anything to go by, Lyla could also tell that Glenn had taken a similar liking to the pretty brunette. She was watching him talk to T-dog across from her and he looked happier than she had seen him in a long time. She smiled to herself and dug back into her food. She started when something warm touched her thigh, but she immediately relaxed when she realized it was a very familiar and large hand. The owner of the hand was sprawled out on his back in the grass next to her with his eyes closed and a piece of reed grass sticking out from between his lips. As she watched him one of his blue eyes opened and looked at her.

"Watcha smilin' about?" he asked in his raspy voice as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Lyla couldn't help the grin that spread across her face at the sight of his hair sticking up in every direction and dotted with small twigs and leaves from the ground. Despite the constant grief that hung over the group from Sophia's absence, things between her and Daryl had been wonderful since their talk in the woods the other night.

"I'm smiling," she said as she removed one of the larger twigs from his soft hair, "Because it looks like our resident pizza boy over there has a thing for the farmer's daughter."

Daryl followed her gaze and smirked when he saw the goofy smile that had been present on Glenn's face since he had arrived.

"Chopsticks better watch himself. That girl's a spitfire if Ah've ever seen one."

Lyla smiled.

"I like her," she said happily, "Plus she's only a year younger than me. Maybe I can actually have a friend that's my own age, besides Glenn. I think I'm starting to age faster since I spend all my time with you seniors. I actually feel kind of left out since you get all those AARP benefits and I-"

Her playful joking was cut off as a handful of grass exploded all over her face. She blew some out of her mouth, laughing all the while, and looked down at the smirking Daryl.

"Ah ain't old," he growled mockingly as she continued to laugh, despite the abundance of grass and roots that was now spread all down her body.

"Sure you aren't," she said as she patted his knee and flopped onto her stomach next to him, her breakfast completely forgotten, "Speaking of your age, Dale keeps track of the date on a calendar in the RV. According to his ability to check off boxes with a marker, which I amazingly trust completely, It's now August."

"So?" asked Daryl disinterestedly as he dropped another handful of grass onto her lower back. Lyla watched for a moment propped up on her forearms as he shaped it into a small mountain.

"Sooo," Lyla said with a roll of her eyes, "That means that a certain date in July, the sixth to be exact, has passed without celebration. Congrats, you're thirty-five. Right now you are nine years my elder. Feeling old yet?"

She smiled at the disgruntled looking Daryl and opened her mouth to poke fun at him further, but another mouthful of grass obstructed her speech. Daryl was cackling on the ground with his raspy voice as she spluttered and struggled to spit out all of the offending, green plant. She grabbed her own handful and shoved it down the front of his jeans. Daryl yelped and tried to swat her away but she quickly took a seat on his chest and dumped another handful onto his face.

"CHILDREN!"

The shout had come from a clearly exasperated Lori. Lyla and Daryl had both paused; she with her hands in front of her face and he with a handful of grass ready to throw. They hadn't realized that the whole group had been watching them. Lyla giggled somewhat sheepishly as she looked at her grass covered boyfriend beneath her. She quickly scooted off of him and they both pulled themselves into sitting positions. The tips of Daryl's ears were bright red. Lori looked somewhat mollified now that they had stopped their bout of plant-life warfare.

"Seriously," she said with half a laugh and a shake of her head, "Do you both have the maturity level of eight-year-olds?"

Lyla squinted like she was thinking about the question very deeply.

"I think I might, but Daryl is probably just experiencing a mid-life crisis. It's not too unexpected really, given that he is middle-aged and-"

She coughed as yet another handful of grass made it into her mouth. She spit it out and wiped at her tongue, glaring playfully at Daryl who was doing his best innocent face. She giggled when she saw a few tufts of the grass sticking out from his pants.

"Hey Lyla!" came T-dog's voice from across the circle, "Wanna tell us why you're wearing that disgusting thing?"

Daryl groaned into his hands as Lyla looked down at her shirt. She narrowed her eyes at the big man dangerously and he regretted his question almost instantly.

"You better not be referring to the 2009 World Series champions shirt I'm wearing T. I know you wouldn't dare insult the biggest and best sports franchise in world in front of me."

T-dog swallowed nervously as Daryl snorted mirthlessly.

"Now ya've done it," he mumbled from his place next to Lyla. T-dog glanced at him curiously before continuing bravely.

"I guess I just didn't peg you as a supporter of the evil empire Lyla," he said with a shake of his head.

"Fuck yeah I support them, I'm from New Jersey," said Lyla fiercely. Then she narrowed her eyes even more, "Please don't tell me you're from Boston?"

T-dog grinned evilly and spread his arms wide.

"Born and raised."

"That's a shame," said Lyla with an appraising look, "I was starting to like you."

Daryl and a few of the others laughed loudly at that. T-dog was still indignant.

"How can you support the Yankees? Ugh they're awful," he questioned with a frown and a fake shudder.

"Hmm I don't know," replied Lyla with a look of mock concentration, "But I think the 27 championships they hold disprove your argument there. How many do the sox have? Oh that's right, they only have seven."

T-dog waved her off.

"Pshh, it's not about quantity. The Red Sox rock."

Lyla raised an eyebrow at him.

"Neil Diamond sings your unofficial anthem. Frank Sinatra sings ours. I think that says enough about both teams."

"Neil Diamond is awesome!"

"Oh sure, he's so much better than Frank Sinatra, you know, the best singer of all time."

"See that's the problem with New York sports fans, you're all too snobby in your big ass city. Next you're gunna tell me that Manning is a better quarterback than Brady."

"WHO FUCKING WON THE LAST TWO SUPERBOWLS THEY WERE IN T-mphhm."

Daryl's hand had covered her mouth and muffled her speech. She glared at him with her green eyes over his hand. He quirked a single eyebrow at her, as if to ask if she was finished, and she nodded grumpily. He removed his hand but kept in on her shoulder in warning.

"Don' get her started on sports if ya know what's good fer ya," he said tiredly to T-dog.

Lyla mumbled something under her breath and Daryl gently shoved her off balance so she fell sideways into the grass. She looked up with wide eyes at Daryl who was pointing a finger at her.

"Play nice now, alright," he warned her as the others laughed loudly.

She reached behind her to grab another fistful of grass but Lori's voice quickly rang out.

"No! No, Lyla, that's enough," she said as she made her way over to the younger woman, "I'm breaking you two up since you apparently can't act your ages around each other. I also think I'm going to start a swear jar going, seriously."

The depressed looks that immediately came over both of the couples faces made the others burst into laughter all over again. Daryl quickly pulled his usual blank expression back on and hauled himself to his feet, shaking all the grass off as he did.

"Whatever. Ah gotta head out to look fer Sophia now anyway," he grumbled and without further conversation he shouldered his Horton and headed towards the edge of the woods. Lyla stared after him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Be careful!" she shouted at his retreating figure before turning back to the others, "Well I guess he used up his quota for socializing today," she quipped sarcastically, "He probably has to go recharge his stores before making another appearance."

Lori laughed as she shook her head and cast a calculating look over to the German.

"You seem to be in an awfully good mood lately Lyla," she said with an implication that she wanted to know the cause.

Lyla shrugged and squinted up into the harsh sunlight from her sprawled position on the ground.

"What can I say," she began with a flourish of her thin arms, "Carl is going to make a full recovery, we're in a safe place, and I have no doubt that one of the men is going to find Sophia in the next few days. It's looking pretty good for us right now despite the odds."

"What about the happy hillbilly? He's been more tolerable than usual," questioned Shane. Lyla almost did a double take; she was still getting used to his shaved head.

"We worked some things out. Plus I found him some cigarettes the other day. He'll be grumpy again after he smokes them all, which will probably be by the end of today given that he has no self control."

"Wonderful," muttered the cop with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, he only acts the way he does because you guys let him," she said defensively, "He knows he can get away with anything because he's the toughest and scariest guy here."

Shane looked like he was going to protest for a moment but then he sunk back into his seat with a slight nod of agreement. No one could argue that Daryl had faced more hardship than any of the others. Lyla smirked and continued.

"You guys let him walk all over you when he starts yelling. You should see him around my dad, it's fucking hilarious."

"What do you mean?" asked Glenn curiously, "Is he the same as he is with us?"

Lyla laughed loudly at that.

"He's exactly the opposite."

The others looked confused and Lyla explained what she meant.

"See, my dad is pretty young, only like 52, and he's intimidating as hell. You guys think Daryl is scary but he's got nothing on my dad and he knows it. I mean, the man escaped from East Berlin in the seventies all by himself. It doesn't exactly help that he rarely speaks anything but German too. I thought Daryl was going to shit his pants the first time he met him."

T-dog was rubbing his hands together eagerly as he listened to her. The others were leaning forward as well; they loved hearing stories about Daryl since the redneck was so tight-lipped about his personal life.

"So when I brought Daryl up to New Jersey that one time to meet my parents he was already nervous from being in Yankee country as he called it. I take him to my house and my dad proceeds to stare him down for a good five minutes, then came the interrogation in German. Are you providing for my daughter, do you have a decent life insurance plan, get a proper haircut, etc. It went on for a while."

They all laughed at Daryl's misfortune. All of the guys had been in that situation at some time or another.

"How did Daryl respond to that?" asked Dale with a chuckle.

Lyla sighed and put her hands behind her head as she leaned back in the grass.

"Like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs."

T-dog was roaring with laughter and she wasn't even finished.

"He was standing there practically frozen in his boots. Nodding every time my dad spoke and saying ja, mein herr or nein, mein herr. That's yes or no sir in German. He was so afraid of insulting my dad that he refused to even touch me when we were in the same room as him for the whole trip. I felt like the creepy villain trying to seduce the innocent girl in a movie."

"That must make for awkward family reunions," commented Lori dryly, "My parents were in love with Rick I can't imagine there being any animosity."

Lyla scratched at her flat stomach where her shirt had ridden up.

"There's no animosity. My dad likes him, he just also likes messing with him in his own overprotective, fatherly way."

"How'd Daryl win him over?" asked Glenn. Lyla smirked.

"By loving the two things that my dad says every respectable man should worship: Engineering and Jagermeister."

Even Lori was laughing now.

"My dad is a physicist so when he learned that Daryl's job is also based in calculus he warmed up to him. He's not exactly a humanities kind of guy; he only appreciates math and the hard sciences. Then Daryl matched him in Jager consumption and he suddenly wanted to be best friends with my boyfriend. I thought it was a good decision not to tell him that Daryl spent nearly the whole next day vomiting everything in his stomach up. He still doesn't miss the chance to wind him up a bit whenever he can."

"How does your mom feel about Daryl?" asked Carol quietly. It was the first time she had spoken all morning and Lyla tried not to act differently despite her surprise. She scoffed and waved a hand in the air above her.

"She loves him and thinks he adorable, with his accent and the fact that he always calls her ma'am. She babies the fuck out of him and yells at my dad whenever he's being too harsh."

As Lyla finished her sentence she was suddenly overcome with a vicious streak of nausea. She had stumbled to her feet and behind the large tree next to her when she emptied the contents of her stomach all over the ground. The others had stopped laughing when they saw she was in distress and Lyla vaguely felt a soft hand rubbing circles on her back as she noisily threw up her breakfast. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth when she was finished and leaned her head against the cool bark.

"Are you ok sweetie?"

Lyla nodded as Lori's soothing voice washed over her. She straightened up and ran both of her hands through her hair in an attempt to tame it. Lori kept a hand on her arm and was looking at her it concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked with her forehead wrinkled in worry.

"Yeah I feel fine now," she said, "I don't know what happened it just came on so suddenly. I guess my stomach didn't agree with those eggs."

"Why don't you go lie down in your tent for a while. I'm ordering you to relax and take it easy for the rest of the day ok? No watch."

Lyla nodded and smiled sheepishly. She allowed the older woman to begin to gently lead her towards the small camp that Daryl had set up for them two nights ago. As they passed the others around the campfire Glenn shouted out to her.

"Hey Lyla, do you want one of us to go get Daryl?" he asked while shielding his eyes form the sun with his hand, "He won't have made it out too far yet."

She shook her head fervently, her golden waves reflecting the strong sunlight vividly.

"Thanks but its ok," she said graciously, "I'm really fine it must have just been a fluke. No need to alert the troops just yet."

Glenn snorted with a smile.

"Alright, I hope you feel better."

The others repeated his sentiment and Lyla waved them off with a kind smile before letting Lori lead her over to the tent. The mother said a goodbye to her and left her alone with the promise of fresh water in a couple of minutes. Lyla thanked her and crawled into the mess of sleeping bags and blankets that she and Daryl had slept on for two nights now. When Lori returned with the water Lyla was already deep asleep.

* * *

Lyla woke up disoriented and groggy and it took her a few seconds to figure out why she woke up in the first place. Then the sound of voices outside of the tent alerted her to the reason. She could make out Daryl's low, raspy voice and she was almost positive that the other voice belonged to Lori. Suddenly the voiced stopped and the sound of a zipper being pulled down filled the tent. Lyla didn't raise her head from the pillows but she felt a weight ease itself down onto the sleeping bag next to her. Then a large hand was on her waist and gently pulling her toward an extremely warm body. She giggled and reached out her arm, shrieking when it met something cold and wet. Her eyes snapped open and she saw an abashed but smirking Daryl staring at her. He must have just cleaned himself up because his face was free of dirt and his hair was still sopping wet.

"Y'alright?" he questioned with a serious look as he leaned down to unlace her boots, which she had forgotten to remove before falling asleep, "The sheriff's wife said ya got sick right after Ah left this morning."

He tossed her boots to the side of the tent and pulled her to him once more. Lyla pushed his arms away gently so she could greedily gulp at the tall glass of water that Lori had left for her. Daryl kept his blue eyes on her the whole time she drank. When she had drained the whole glass she slumped back into the pillows next to him and intertwined her fingers with his.

"I'm fine Daryl," she yawned against her hand as her eyes slid shut again.

She felt him tug sharply on a lock of her hair and she yelped in protest.

"None of that now ya hear," he huffed as he pulled her up into a sitting position, "Ya've been sleepin' too fuckin' much durin' the day. Yer gunna turn nocturnal."

Lyla groaned but made no argument; what he was saying was true. She had been sleeping a lot during the last few days. Now she was realizing that she'd probably been sleeping so much because her body was trying to fight off whatever this virus was.

"Ya still feel sick to yer stomach?" he asked with concern.

He rearranged her body until she was sitting in between his legs facing him. She shook her head tiredly and was rewarded with a smile from Daryl.

"Good," he grunted, "Cuz Ah got a buck when Ah was out and we're gunna be eatin' venison tonight."

"Yay," she drawled sarcastically.

"S'better than squirrel," he grumbled as he peeled away a section of his shirt that was sticking to his wet, recently washed skin.

Lyla giggled as he dropped the material and it clung to him once again.

"You know I actually like venison. I'm just grumpy because I haven't had any Skittles in a long time," she teased.

He chuckled and looked up at her through his wet hair.

"Don't know how ya didn't rot yer teeth out or become malnourished. Ya hardly ever ate anything else," he joked back.

"My body actually requires six times the amount of sugar a normal person needs," she replied without missing a beat.

"Liar," he said good-naturedly.

Lyla simply grinned and shrugged before he wrapped his hands around her knees and pulled her until their bodies were flush against one another. She sighed and raised her hands to attempt to finger-comb one side of his messy hair into submission.

"No Sophia then?" she asked quietly as her fingers continued to move.

He seemed to deflate under her touch as he shook his head. Lyla took a deep, steadying breath.

"Tomorrow then," she said confidently, "I'm sure Sophia found some old house to stow herself away in and is just waiting for one of us to find her. Now come on, I'll help you get that deer ready."

He nodded and stood before helping Lyla to her feet. She started towards the entrance flap but his hand on her arm stopped him. She turned back and saw that he was sorting through some stuff in his duffle bag. He straightened up and faced her holding the single plaid shirt he had with sleeves.

"It's getting' kinda cold during the night and yer already sick," he explained as he draped it over her shoulders and helped her push her arms into the sleeves. Then he helped her step out of her jean shorts and into her softly worn, Dartmouth pajama pants. When Daryl was satisfied that she was warm enough, he grabbed her hand in his and led her out of their tent. The others were already huddled around the campfire in the dwindling light when she and Daryl walked up. He immediately dropped her hand as the group shouted out greetings to them both and made his way over to the large deer that was strung upside down in the tree. Lyla plopped down in between Dale and Glenn on a sanded log. The elderly man squeezed her shoulder lightly and Glenn punched her leg lightly.

"How are you feeling champ?" the Asian asked jokingly, but with concern at the same time.

The amount they cared made Lyla smile and she grabbed Dale's hand with her own as she addressed her friend.

"I'm fine now I think," she reassured them, "I promise not to ralph all over your shoes."

Glenn laughed and suddenly Daryl was standing in front of her. Each of his hands was coated in blood up to the elbow; he looked like he was wearing a pair of bizarre, bright red gloves.

"Wanna help me gut this thing yank?"

Lyla started to nod, but then the wind changed direction and wafted the rusty, metallic smell of blood straight into her nose. Her face flushing and the watering of her mouth were the only warnings she got before she found herself emptying her stomach of its contents for the second time that day. Daryl cursed and jumped out of the splash zone with panic written clearly on his face.

"Someone get me some water or a fuckin' towel or somethin'!," he shouted out to the group. Andrea rushed forward with a damp towel, which Daryl used to wipe all of the blood from his arms. Glenn and Dale were trying their best to comfort the coughing girl while they waited for him. Once he was clean, Daryl crouched down in front of Lyla, careful to avoid the vomit in the grass, and grasped both of her knees in his hands.

"Back to the tent then?" he asked somewhat dryly. He regretted his tone immediately when she looked up and he saw that her green eyes were watery from the forceful heaving.

"Aw shit sweetheart," he murmured gently as he moved a hand to the side of her face, "Come 'ere."

She sniffed and held her arms out to him like a child. He pulled her onto his lap so her legs wrapped around his waist and he was able to hold her up with one arm. Lyla eagerly wound her thin arms around his neck and pushed her face into his shoulder. Daryl stood easily, adjusted her body to get a better grip, and trudged off towards their tent without a word to the others.

The group watched his retreating figure in silence for a few moments before he reemerged from the tent and made his way back to the campfire. He started to hack away at the dead deer once again without a single word to the others. Rick glanced at Lori and she nodded her head towards Daryl with her eyebrows raised. He gave her a confused look to which she rolled her eyes and stood up. She crossed the distance between herself and the hunter and reached out a tentative hand to his shoulder. Lori withdrew it immediately when Daryl flinched violently at her touch and whirled around with anger dominating his face. She folded her hands behind her back to show him she wouldn't try to touch him again and spoke in calm voice.

"Can we get anything for Lyla? Extra blankets or some more water maybe?"

Then anger left his face and was replaced with a tired look. He rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand and sighed deeply.

"Uh yeah, that'd be good," he said without meeting her eyes, "Ah'm gunna finish this then see if she feels up to eatin' any."

Lori nodded.

"She should get some food in her. She's thrown up everything she's eaten today."

Daryl bit his lip and looked worriedly over at the tent that Lyla was in. Lori saw his worry and smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

"She'll be fine. She probably just caught a stomach bug. God knows we haven't been preparing our food in the most sanitary way; someone was bound to get sick sooner or later."

Daryl looked at her and nodded somewhat shakily while gnawing on his lip. Lori understood his trepidation; vomiting and fever were the symptoms that bitten people exhibited. It was understandable that he was nervous about Lyla.

"I'll go bring her some stuff to help," she continued, "And I'll tell her you'll bring her some food soon."

She turned away but was stopped by a large, warm hand on her shoulder. She turned to face Daryl again and he immediately dropped his hand from her shoulder and coughed awkwardly.

"Just, uh," he stumbled over his words as he lowered his gaze to the ground, "Just wanted to say thanks. Fer helpin' her."

Lori smiled warmly at him as he kicked the toe of his boot into a patch of dirt.

"Of course."

Then she left to go gather the things for Lyla and Daryl turned back to the deer.

* * *

After the meat was cooked and everyone had gotten a share, Daryl loaded up a plate, grabbed two forks, and headed towards his tent. Lyla was sitting cross-legged in the mess of blankets with Bowie in her lap when he walked in. She had changed into a pair of running shorts and his black Ramones t-shirt. She smiled when he walked in and plopped down in front of her with the food-laden plate. Daryl stared hard at her for a few moments and was pleased to see that she had regained some color and lost the green tinge to her skin.

"How ya feelin'?" he asked concernedly as he handed her a fork, "Gotta try to get some food in yer system."

She pushed Bowie onto the floor, which he yowled loudly at, and scooted closer to the plate.

"I'm fine now," she said with a small frown, "It's weird I don't feel sick at all, just like I didn't after I threw up this morning. Now I'm just starving and really hot."

Daryl smirked slightly.

"Back to normal then?"

Lyla shrugged and rolled her eyes as she shoved a forkful of meat into her mouth.

"I guess. I feel completely normal at least."

Daryl nodded and for the next few minutes they both shoveled food into their mouths in silence. When the plate was empty Lyla yawned and laid back against the pillows, dragging Daryl down with her. She kicked one of her long legs in between his and he wrapped one toned arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" she asked tiredly. Daryl rubbed a calloused hand over his eyes.

"Gunna take a horse up to the ridge. See if Ah can see anywhere the girl mighta hid out."

Lyla nodded and chewed on her lip.

"Any chance you'll let me come with you?" she asked in a tone suggesting that she already knew his answer.

"Not a chance," Daryl snorted. He quickly explained his reasoning after seeing the affronted look that passed over Lyla's face, "Yer sick Lyla, it's not safe. Ya know Ah'd want ya with me if ya weren't."

Lyla huffed in frustration but didn't argue. She hated to be left out of the action but she _was_ sick, and she wouldn't be of much help if she spent the whole time puking everywhere. Daryl would be taking care of her the whole time instead of looking for Sophia.

"I'll stick to watch duty until I can last a day without blowing chunks," she said somewhat bitterly.

Daryl smirked at her language and pressed rough kiss to the top of her head. Lyla heard him mumble a low "thank you" against her hair, and she responded with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

They relaxed in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Lyla sat up quickly and turned to look at Daryl with a large grin stretched across her tan face. Daryl looked at her somewhat cautiously.

"You know what would make me feel better about being out of commission tomorrow?" she asked as she slid her hands up his chest slowly.

Daryl coughed and tried to ignore the twitching that was occurring in his pants.

"Ah don't know about right now darlin', ya know Ah love ya but ya did puke a lot today. 'S kinda gross."

Suddenly he felt a pillow hit his face. He propped himself up on his elbows and glared half-heartedly at his girlfriend. She had her arms crossed and looked half amused and half annoyed.

"First of all," Lyla began, "I brushed my teeth both times I threw up you ass, and second of all I wasn't talking about sex. I was talking about the fucking huge amount of weed you've currently got strapped to the triumph."

Daryl shot up at that with a lazy smile slowly spreading over his face.

"Ya serious?" he asked.

Lyla shook her head in exasperation and grabbed his broad shoulders.

"I grabbed it for a fucking reason Daryl," she laughed, "Now please retrieve the narcotics so we can partake in illegal activities."

He laughed at her mockingly serious face and leaned forward to capture her grinning lips in a deep kiss. Lyla returned it eagerly and giggled into his mouth. Daryl pulled away first and Lyla's mood lifted dramatically as she saw his flushed but happy face. He ran a hand from her shoulder to her elbow then stood up and shoved his feet into his boots.

"Ah'll be back in a minute ya pothead," he teased as he unzipped the entrance to the tent.

"Watch out for the cops!" she called after him with a laugh.

* * *

As Daryl walked back towards his tent with a significant stash of weed in his pocket, he heard multiple voices coming from inside. He stopped and stared with furrowed brows for a few seconds before pushing aside the flap and trudging in. Lyla was laughing from her place in the mess of blankets at a story that Glenn, who was seated cross-legged with his back against the tent's side, was telling very animatedly. Maggie was also there and she too was sitting in the same position as Glenn. The younger man immediately stopped talking when Daryl entered the tent and looked at him with wide eyes. Daryl ignored him and turned to Lyla with an eyebrow raised in question.

"We found the stuff at the same time so technically the pot is half Glenn's," she responded with a wave of her hand, "Oh, and he's also here because I like him. Maggie too."

Daryl stared at him for a moment before moving forward and dropping next to her on their makeshift bed.

"Whatever," he muttered as he took the weed and a pack of rolling papers out of his pocket, "There's enough shit on the bike to keep the whole group blazed for over a fuckin' month."

Maggie laughed loudly and Daryl's eyes shot quickly to her with suspicion. Lyla knew he wasn't used to people responding so openly to things he said, but Maggie certainly wasn't as afraid of the surly redneck as the other survivors were.

"What?" the farmer's daughter asked in confusion, "What you said was funny."

Daryl smirked slightly and looked back down at his lap where his fingers were rolling a joint with practiced ease.

"Yer dad ok with this?" he asked without looking up. He heard Maggie scoff.

"I'm twenty-five," she said dryly which caused Lyla to laugh, "I stopped needing my daddy's permission to do things a long time ago."

"Alright, alright," mumbled Daryl, "Meant no offense. Just sayin' it ain't ma land and Ah don't wanna offend your old man."

"Well we can just keep this little get together to ourselves," Maggie said as she laced her fingers together and raised her arms above her head to stretch, "And he won't lose any sleep over it."

Daryl felt Lyla elbow his side gently and he looked at her before following her gaze. He sniggered when he saw what Lyla was trying to point out to him; Glenn was all but gaping at Maggie's chest as she arched her back. Lyla grinned and leaned back on her elbows as she spoke to Daryl in a low voice.

"Das hat sie mit Absicht gemacht. Sie steht auf ihn." (_She did that on purpose. She wants him.)_

Daryl gave her an unbelieving look as he licked the paper.

"Niemals," he said with a disbelieving huff. (_No fucking way.)_

Lyla smirked confidently at him and he had to remind himself that there were other people in the tent as her full lips turned up in a tantalizing way.

"Ich sag dir, es wird bald passieren." (_I'm telling you, it's going to happen soon.)_

Daryl snorted and shook his head. He then realized that it had gone quiet and Maggie was staring at the two of them. Glenn remedied her confusion as Daryl lit the end of the joint and inhaled deeply.

"They speak German to each other," he told her as if it was a normal thing for couples to do. Maggie scrunched up her nose as she considered it.

"Huh, weird," she said, "Is it a sex thing?"

Daryl went into a coughing fit as he sucked in a breath the wrong way and Lyla burst into hysterical laughter. Glenn looked like he wanted to laugh but was afraid of what Daryl might do if he did. Lyla calmed down enough to rub Daryl's back as he wheezed and glared at Maggie at the same time. The girl still just looked confused.

"Well?" she asked bluntly, "Is it or isn't it."

Daryl's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly nasty to her, but Lyla spoke before he could get any words out.

"No, it's not," she said with laughter still in her voice, "My dad is German."

Maggie nodded in understanding while Daryl passed the joint to Lyla.

"See that's all you had to say cowboy. No need to spaz out."

"Ah didn't fuckin' spaz out," he all but spat at the younger woman.

"Sure you didn't," replied Maggie sarcastically as she accepted the joint from Lyla.

Daryl muttered something under his breath and raised his thumb to his mouth. Lyla quickly swatted his hand away and received a glare in return. She rolled her eyes and began to ask Maggie questions about her life. Everyone but Daryl talked for a few minutes while they continued to pass around the joint. By the time it was done, all four of them were significantly high and the tent was filled with smoke. Lyla had taken up residence on Daryl's lap and was playing with the fingers on one of his hands with apparent fascination. Glenn was giggling and practically hanging off of Maggie, who was staring fervently at nothing in particular.

Suddenly Daryl lurched to his feet and Lyla made a muffled noise of protest as he knocked her onto the hard tent floor.

"Dude!" exclaimed a crazed looking Glenn, "How did you do that? You were just sitting! Now you're standing!"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the younger man in confusion before huffing and turning his gaze towards Lyla's sprawled figure on the floor.

"C'mon, s'too fuckin' hot in 'ere let's go outside," he said with a nod, apparently thinking that his statement left no room for an argument.

Lyla giggled insanely. His accent made his words nearly incomprehensible when he got high, and sometimes she couldn't even tell what he was saying. She shook her head and buried her face into the mess of blankets. Daryl stared at her for a moment before reaching down and grabbing one of her ankles with his large hand. Lyla shrieked as she felt herself being dragged with ease towards the tent opening. She only stopped squealing when Daryl dropped her leg unceremoniously to the ground. He jumped lightly up and down on his feet and rolled his shoulders. Lyla groaned into the tent's floor.

"No redneck, I don't want to do anything physical right now," she mumbled sluggishly, "Go find someone else to play with."

Daryl huffed a strange laugh and nudged her prone figure with the tip of one of his shoes. Lyla grumbled something else into the floor then shrieked as she felt one of his large hands grab her ankle and yank her foreword again. She sighed in defeat and let him drag her towards the tent opening once more.

"Let's go pretty girl," Daryl mumbled, "Ah gotta move around or sumthin'."

"Noooo," whined Lyla as she tried to grab onto Glenn's outstretched leg to halt her movement. Glenn retracted his leg with a giggle and she shot a glare at her friend.

"Daryl," Lyla whined again, "I don't want to move, why do you always have to moving. You're like the fucking Tasmanian devil and I can't keep up with you sometimes."

Daryl barked out a laugh without turning to face her. He almost had her dragged out of the tent completely, but at the last second Lyla finally managed to get a hold on one of Glenn's ankles. Daryl stopped and turned when his load suddenly became a lot heavier. He raised an eyebrow when he saw what Lyla was gripping onto.

"Lyla," he began slowly, his drawl making her name into a completely different sounding one, "Let go o' the chink."

Lyla stuck her tongue out in response and moved her other arm to grip Glenn's ankle with both hands. Daryl smirked.

"Fine then," he said with a nod as he turned away from the tent.

"Wait, uh, hold on," said Glenn nervously as he stumbled over his words, "What are y-."

He didn't get to finish his question because, with a burst of movement and energy, Daryl strode swiftly forward, pulling Lyla and Glenn along as if they didn't weigh any more than his crossbow. Maggie shrieked in laughter at the sight of the two friends being dragged as a single unit. Daryl dropped his hold on Lyla when they were entirely out of the tent.

"I think I'm going to be sick," groaned Lyla from the ground and Daryl was next to her in less than a second and helping her to sit up, concern written all over his face. He looked at her in confusion when he saw that she didn't look sick at all; she was grinning. In the next moment he felt her foot hook around the back of his legs as she pushed on his chest and sent him toppling over. Daryl grunted as he landed on his back in the grass and Lyla scrambled to her feet to avoid any retaliation, giggling madly the whole way.

"Bitch," coughed Daryl as he tried to regain his breath. He pushed himself into a sitting position and glared at his laughing girlfriend, "Ah'll get ya fer that."

Lyla's green eyes, whose whites were getting increasingly redder, widened and they began to scour the area for an escape route from the redneck getting to his feet. The couple was temporarily distracted by Glenn dragging himself up to stand on unsteady feet. He ran a hand through his mussed up hair.

"Guys, I'm really tired," he said with a huge yawn, "I think I'm just gunna-"

For the second time in minutes Glenn's speech was cut off as Lyla yanked him to stand in front of her.

"Touch me and the kid dies," said Lyla to Daryl, barely holding back her laughter. Daryl stopped his movement and just stared at her wryly.

"Come on seriously?!" complained Glenn shrilly while squirming in an attempt to free himself from Lyla's grip, "Why do I always get shoved into things between the two of you?"

The couple ignored him and continued to stare at each other; Daryl was glaring at Lyla in half-hearted anger and Lyla was still struggling to contain the laughter that was threatening to escape any second. Suddenly Daryl lunged towards them and Lyla pushed Glenn away from her body and to the ground in a panic, her hysterical laughter finally bubbling out. Just before Daryl's hands closed around his girlfriend he felt something collide with his face and his body hit the ground once more. He looked up in a daze and saw Lyla bending over him, her green eyes wide and her long hair obscuring his vision.

"Did ya just fuckin' punch me yankee?" he asked, his tone torn between incredulousness and annoyance. Lyla laughed sheepishly in response and then quickly reverted to hysterical laughter again as she backed away and gave him room to get up.

"Fergot how damn giggly ya get when ya smoke," he grumbled as he got to his feet unsteadily.

"I'm…sorry," panted Lyla in between bouts of laughter with her hands clutching at her stomach, "I…don't know what happened…I just…reacted."

Then she raised her tan hands in front of her face in a mock fighting stance and began to bounce slightly.

"Now what the fuck are ya doin'?" asked Daryl with his thin eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Offering you a free shot," replied Lyla with a serious nod, her previous laughter finally subsided, "Come on. I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

Daryl snorted.

"Settle down there, Tyler Durden," he said easily, "Now ain't exactly a good time to start up a fight club. Let's take a walk to sober ya up some."

Lyla giggled and flounced over to him. She wrapped her arms around his lean waist and stared up at him like an expectant child. She rested her chin on his chest and blinked her bloodshot eyes.

"Can't we just have sex instead?" she asked girlishly as she pushed her hips harder against his.

Lyla watched as Daryl's eyes darkened with lust and felt a shiver run through his body. She grinned wickedly and bit her bottom lip slightly in the way she knew drove him crazy. The rapidly growing bulge pressing into her thigh told her that he hadn't smoked enough weed for it to affect _that_ part of his anatomy.

"Please don't do it right here," groaned Glenn from where he was lying facedown in the grass; not having moved after Lyla pushed him. The realization that he was still there sent Lyla into another fit of hysterics and even Daryl laughed at the younger man as he practically held Lyla up. It was at that moment that Maggie decided to leave the tent and she looked around, her eyes glazed over and sleepy. Daryl nodded to her and Lyla didn't even notice her presence.

"I'm heading back inside," she said tiredly then looked at Glenn on the ground amusedly, "I'll take care of this idiot on my way. See you guys tomorrow."

Even after Maggie had helped Glenn back to his tent and retreated to the farmhouse, Lyla was still laughing with her face pressed into the fabric of Daryl's shirt. Daryl, his head spinning slightly, leaned his head forward and buried his face in her golden, sweet-smelling hair until she quieted down.

"I'm cold," Lyla whispered a few seconds after her laughter stopped.

Daryl sighed into her hair and nodded. He pressed a swift kiss to her forehead before pulling away and taking one of her hands. Silently he led the way back to their tent and ushered Lyla into its slightly warmer interior. She immediately kicked off her shorts and pulled her shirt over her head, standing in the almost pitch black darkness in nothing but her thin underwear.

"Ah thought ya said you were cold, yank," said Daryl lowly as he turned to close the opening of the tent. When he turned back around Lyla pressed her naked body against his clothed one.

"I am redneck," she asserted, her raspy voice even more gravelly than it usually was from the smoking, "You'll just have to warm me up."

Daryl smirked as Lyla began to pull him back towards their makeshift bed.

**Thanks so much for reading! Any thoughts/suggestions?**


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